Resonators
by squishybookworm
Summary: AU Tamers fic. The Vibration has alerted the council of Ohtori, but unsure of the exact cause of the phenomenon, they ignore it to pursue petty ambitions. Meanwhile, Rika has finally awoken in Cephiro. Foretelling war. Henrika. Jerato.
1. Default Chapter

Resonators

  


Prologue

  


By squishybookworm

  


Takato Matsuki jerked awake, immediately rolling. He came up on one knee with his sword in his hand. The fire behind him warmed his back and the crackling and popping of wood almost drowned out the soft footsteps of two people, just beyond his camp. 

  


"Who's there?" he called, his baritone barely echoing before it seeped into the dark forest. He assumed the people didn't mean him any ill will because they'd purposefully stepped on a twig, thereby rousing him from his sleep. They'd done it far enough away that he couldn't see them, but close enough that he could tell where they were, and now they made no attempt to hide themselves. But still, these woods where dense and he was one lone mercenary. Even his thirty years of service to the Duke of Raleigh would not be enough to fight off eight reasonably well armed rogues and that was including his di-genes. 

  


Cautiously, he dropped one hand to retrieve the dagger hidden in his boot. Before he could touch the hilt, however, a low voice spoke, "My disciple and I are travelers traveling to the city of Inepril. We saw your fire and thought we might share it with you tonight. We apologize if we'd startled you."

  


Takato grunted and stood, but kept a firm grip on his sword. "If your intentions are kind, I wouldn't mind some company tonight."

  


"Thank-you."

  


Takato heard the soft scratching of their shoes against dead leaves underfoot, but beyond that, could discern no more from the two. They appeared before him like ghosts emerging from the velvet darkness. One was very old, his long, gray hair braided neatly and his face clean-shaven. The crow's feet at the corner of his eyes framed twinkling dark eyes, as if he was eternally laughing, and deep lines scored the corners of his mouth, showing that he'd had his fair amount of misery as well as happiness. He was short, coming up only at about Takato's shoulder, but his stature made him seem taller. An undercurrent of strength vibrated throughout his body and Takato didn't doubt that this small man would be able beat off offenders if need be.

  


The other one was young. Like his master, he was only as tall as Takato's shoulder and his compact frame gave off the impression of subtle strength. Still smelling of his mother's milk, Takato would have said, except the boy's grey eyes belied that assessment. Serious and unnervingly heavy when they landed on him, they were like the eyes of one who, if met with danger, wouldn't flinch. Set in a smooth, tanned face, the youth made no expression whatsoever. 

  


"I'm Takato Matsuki." He carefully set his sword down within easy reach as the two made their way to the other side of the fire. 

  


"Long Sai Yuk. And my disciple, Wong Henry." Henry set their small packs down, then turned, leaving the circle of golden light cast by the fire.

  


"Where's he going?" Takato asked.

  


"He's fetching our horse." Sai Yuk grinned. "One can't be too careful, especially in this forest."

  


Takato nodded, glancing down at his bared sword. "Yes, of course." He studied the older man's clothes, which was some sort of heavy cotton robe over some loose trousers that tucked into thick, laced stockings. "You must be from the northern regions."

  


"Yes. Young Henry and I are traveling to the city of Inepril to pass some silly Echo test."

  


Takato blinked. "Echo test? You?" 

  


Sai Yuk shook his head.

  


"Henry?" So maybe part of Henry's powerful appeal could be attributed to his di-genes? Takato wondered if that had also contributed to the youth's accelerated maturity. He shrugged mentally. What business was that of his?

  


Rummaging through the packs Henry had left behind, Sai Yuk nodded. "We'd received a letter some few weeks ago from the Academy of . . . the Academy Oto-something . . ." Sai Yuk sighed, pausing in his actions to think. "Hmm . . . I can't quite remember."

  


"You must mean Ohtori Academy."

  


Sai Yuk brightened. "Yes! Yes, that's it. Ohtori Academy." With a short cry of triumph, he pulled a pipe and a stub of herbs and began packing the pipe. "What about you, young man? What business does a warrior have in these lonely woods?"

  


Takato pulled out cloth and oil and began to clean his sword as if he'd planned to do so all along. This old man was certainly interesting, and if these two had planned to kill him and rob him of all his possessions, surely they would have done so already. He grinned, "I'm not so young, surely."

  


"Young enough for this old man."

  


"Not so old, surely."

  


"Ha-ha!" Sai Yuk shook his head, "Just won't let me have it, will you? No matter, no matter." He fished a burning twig from the fire and lit his pipe. A sweet, spicy scent soon permeated the clearing and allowed both men to relax. 

  


Takato shook his head when Sai Yuk offered the smoke. Then he answered the old man's earlier question, "I'm going to Inepril." He shrugged. "Maybe I'll find a merchant or House in need of a good arm and fair character."

  


"Mercenary?"

  


"Yes."

  


"Hmm." Sai Yuk nodded.

  


They lapsed into silence and Takato was glad Sai Yuk didn't pry any further. Takato finished polishing and slid his sword into its sheath. He carefully placed it next to his bedroll and looked up to ask where Henry had gone. He twitched in surprise and almost caught up his sword to bare it again. "Geh!" he choked out. Both men across the fire looked at him strangely. Breathing carefully, Takato relaxed his fists. 

  


Damn! He hadn't even heard the kid come back!

  


"Where the hell did he come from?!" Takato managed to grit out. He glared at the impassive Henry. "Boy, you'd better call out next time or I'm liable to skewer you by mistake!"

  


Both Master and Student traded a glance. Takato could sense a whole conversation spoken through that one look and before he could ask, Henry turned away and Sai Yuk smiled apologetically to Takato. 

  


"Henry doesn't speak," Sai Yuk said gently.

  


"What? Did he take a vow of silence or something of the like?"

  


"No." Sai Yuk's smile turned sad. "He's mute."

  


". . ." Takato scratched his cheek slowly, then said, "I meant no offense."

  


Sai Yuk chuckled. "None taken, rest assured. Young Henry does not mind."

  


Takato looked at the boy, who gazed back steadily with clear gray eyes. He nodded briefly, then turned away to unroll their bedding. With a shrug, Takato slipped under his cloak-turned-blanket, and was soon breathing evenly.

  
  
  


Takato Matsuki jerked awake, immediately rolling. He fell off the side of the bed with a loud thump and a muffled yelp. As he struggled to untangle himself from the bedsheets, his ma shouted impatiently from below, once again.

  


"Agh! Stupid!" Takato jerked a corner of the spread, promptly strangling himself in the process. "Ack!" Quickly, he tugged the strip around his neck, but it was wound too tight. He rolled, desperately trying to loosen the chokehold his blanket had on him and crashed into the legs of his bed. "Argh!" He rolled the other way, valiantly fighting off the sheets and finally succeeding. His body stopped short of the door and he lay there, gasping, his wine-red eyes wide and unfocused. His face flushed. His chest heaving. There was a creak. Whunk!

  


"AOUTCH! Ahh . . ." His breath stopped for a few seconds as he clutched his head. When he could breath again, he moaned lowly.

  


"Takato Matsuki! What were you thinking, putting your head where _anyone_ could bash it in?! And what were you up to with all that racket?!" 

  


Takato peeked through his fingers and squinted painfully through a red-hazed tunnel to find his ma glaring down at him. He opened his mouth to say, 'I almost choked to death!' but all that came out was a low, "Uraagghh . . ."

  


Her frown deepened further and she sniffed. "If you want my pity, you're wasting your time. You shouldn't have been jumping around up here like a monkey in heat! Now get dressed and get downstairs! The bread's ready to be fired up." She scowled a moment longer, then turned away. But not before Takato caught the hint of a smile on her lips.

  


He groaned, sitting up slowly. Gingerly probing the sore, he grimaced when his fingers found a particularly tender spot, then glared at the door, where his ma had been standing. Grumbling about the unfairness of it all, he slowly readied himself. 

  


A few moments later, in the kitchen he found his mother, her hair pulled back tightly into a bun and covered with a kerchief. Flour powdered her arms up to her elbows as she kneaded a large lump of dough on the large table that dominated the kitchen. Ingredients piled waist high in every corner of the room left little space to maneuver and Takato would have to go all around the table to reach the short hallway, which led to their large ovens. 

  


Rounding the corner of the hallway, his dad clapped his hand sending up short puffs of white smoke. "Good morning, Takato!" His dad grinned hugely. Takato felt faintly alarmed. "Heard quite a disturbance up there! You weren't trying to sneak a girl out now, were you?"

  


Takato immediately felt his face grow hot. "I . . . that's not . . . I wasn't . . ."

  


As he continued to sputter, his ma shot her husband a withering glare that didn't deter the chuckling man. "For shame, husband. He's only seen seventeen winters. He hasn't the common sense to do so!"

  


"BWAHAHAHA!"

  


"Maaa. . . ." Takato whined.

  


His dad shook his head, wiping some tears away. He chuckled, "He's almost a man now. And," his dad turned back to him with a decidedly mischevious glint in his eye, "from what _I _hear he's already getting sweet on Katou's daughter."

  


"W-w-what?!"

  


"Jeri?" his ma asked. "The innkeeper's daughter?" 

  


"I am NOT getting sweet on her!"

  


"Hmm." 

  


His ma stared at him with an undefinable expression. He twitched.

  


She finally turned back to her dough. "I approve."

  


"WHAT?!"

  


She fixed him with another glare. "She is a well-mannered girl. Quite charming and pretty, too. Perfect in luring you out of your silly Echoes daydreams."

  


"BWA-HAHAHAH!"

  


Takato scuttled past his parents and out the door, across from the stairs, trying to make it look as if he wasn't really running. He smothered the urge to tell them that it was the 'well-mannered girl' who'd first told him about Echoes 

  


Inside the front room of their home where they sold their bread, he lit a lamp, grabbed a broom and grumbling furiously, he began sweeping. He was not getting sweet on her!

  


Once he'd had a small pile, he opened the front door swept the dust outside. The cool morning air brushed across his hot face soothingly and the first twitter of birds filtered through the dark. The faint brush of color in the east slowly melted away the last star as Takato stifled a small yawn. He leaned onto his broom, enjoying the silence and the only moment of peace he'd have before the day claimed him with chores and other tasks. The soft rustle of heavy skirts and two cheerfully young voices floated around the corner down the street and a moment later, two little forms came skidding around the corner, all arms, legs, and skirts. 

  


Takato smiled at their childish antics and raised one hand lazily in greeting, not expecting them to notice in the predawn light. He blinked. The world was suddenly, strangely hazy. Building corners were blurred as if a child had drawn them in chalk and then ran a careless hand over them. Colors bled together into crazy swirls and seemed muted, like a very old painting he'd run across in their cellar. He stepped back involuntarily and the echo of his heel striking against the ground pinged like a high-toned bell. He blinked. And everything was suddenly normal again.

  


He gasped. Fell back on the door with a loud bang and blinked rapidly, but nothing changed. Distantly he noticed his ma's shouts of concern and on reflex, assured her that he was alright. He shook his head. Rubbed his eyes. And breathed a chuckling sigh when nothing changed. Too many free nights at the Katou inn with the visiting bards and their dramatic tales of heroic Echoes, no doubt. But still he couldn't shake off a niggling feeling of unease. Like a tickle on the back of his neck. 

  


"Takato!"

  


He looked up, then straightened quickly. Then wished he hadn't.

  


"Taka!"

  


"Taka!"

  


Two high-pitched squeals were his only warning before two bundles launched themselves at him. He was almost bowled over from their combined weight, but managed to remain standing to smile lopsidedly at the older girl running up to them. 

  


For as long as Takato could remember, Jeri Katou had come to their shop to buy the inn's needed supply of bread for the day. Living just around the corner, at first her father accompanied her to the shop, but as she grew older and her sisters were born, she came herself or with her sisters as was the case today. 

  


Remembering his mother's words, he found himself admiring how the first rays of the sun brushed across the curve of her cheeks and touched mahagony highlights in her hair. The soft gold light fell softly into her eyes and lightened to them to brilliant orbs like shiny gold coins.

  


"Takato?"

  


Realizing he'd been staring, Takato coughed, quickly averting his gaze. His face grew hot once more and he swiftly ducked his head to hide the oncoming blush. Argh! He could imagine his ma's smug and triumphant smile. This was _exactly_ what she wanted and what he'd do at all costs to avoid. 

  


"Why Taka red?" Minako, the older twin asked.

  


"Why Taka red?" her younger twin, Usagi echoed.

  


"I-I-I am NOT red!"

  


But the two girls just giggled and poked him asking "Why, why, why?" 

  


"Minako! Usagi!" Jeri scolded.

  


But they giggled and ran into the shop. Jeri stared after them, shaking her head. Then slanted an amused glance at Takato. "But I wonder," she said, "why _is_ Taka red?"

  


"None of your business!"

  


Jeri giggled, hiding her mouth behind her hand. Her hand, which was narrow and slightly calloused from hauling buckets of water for so many years. The fingers were long and slim, not like her mother's but like her father's who, Takato knew, had been a bard once. In fact, he even knew how to read and write and had included Takato in Jeri's lessons when they were younger. He'd even tried to teach Takato how to play the lute. Unfortunately, Takato had been too clumsy and his fingers were too blunt to handle such subtle strumming on the stringed instrument; however, Jeri had been quite adept and seemed to have gotten her father's natural talent. Takato used to love sitting in the Katou dining room and listen to the father and daughter duo play for guests on slow evenings. 

  


Takato shook his head. He hadn't been to the inn for a quite a while. Maybe he could finish early tonight and his ma would let him go . . .

  


"Why are you smiling like that?"

  


"Huh? What? Jeri?"

  


Jeri rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "No. The _Resonater_. Honestly, do you have wool between your ears? Or are you still dreaming of being a," she puffed out her chest like a rooster and lowered her voice, "_Great and Mighty Echo_."

  


"If I'll look like that, then . . . no."

  


Unoffended, Jeri dropped the posture with a bright laugh. Takato smiled. He turned back to the door. And everything blurred. 

  


The door seemed to wave like he was seeing it over the fumes of an open fire, and once again the colors seemed to bleed and twirl into one another crazily. Takato shook his head. But nothing changed. He squeezed his eyes tightly. Tried to keep the small scream from escaping. Luckily, his throat seemed to have frozen up on him, and a strange constriction in his chest blocked his lungs off. His shallow breaths sounded like the sloshing of an overturned waterbucket as he opened his eyes slowly.

  


"No. . . ." he breathed. Nothing. Nothing happened. What was going on? There was the door still waving at him. No. . . . this . . . this was just too unreal. . . .

  


"Takato," Jeri whimpered. She clutched his sleeve and he found the touch very comforting. He covered her hand, hoping she wouldn't notice his trembling.

  


"What is happening?" Jeri whispered.

  


"I-" Takato backed away from the door, pulling Jeri along with him, "I don't know." He looked back at the pale girl, her eyes wide and fearful. She gasped suddenly her hold tightened on him. He winced, but she didn't notice.

  


"Oh, merciful Shuichon," she whispered. "We can't be . . . This can't be . . ."

  


"Jeri? What? Do you know? Jeri!" Takato shook her slightly when her eyes seemed to glaze.

  


She looked back at him with a horrified expression. "Takato, those stories. The Echoes, the Mistakes, the Tunings. . . ."

  


Terror flooded Takato's being. He shook his head. "No. No, no, no, no, no. They're stories. They're just stories!"

  


Tears pooled into Jeri's eyes and she scooted closer. "But this is exactly how it was described! This is exactly how the bards said it would be like! Takato," she sniffed, "Oh, Takato, how do we get back?!"

  


"Don't worry, Jeri," Takato soothed. "Don't worry." But he couldn't stop the slight waver in his voice. And he wrapped an arm around her, seeking familiar human warmth in the strange distorted town that had been his home but moments before.

  
  
  


Henry's eyes snapped open. The gray orbs shone eerily bright in the fantastical landscape he'd awoken to. The moon overhead shone dully, its pearly sheen non-existent. The surrounding trees shifted and creaked abnormally in tandem with the moaning wind; the pattern in their bark seeming to move and twist like live snakes. The camp seemed to have disappeared. From the edge of the clearing, just in the shadow of one of the taller trees, a rustling like dry skin against dead leaves sounded. A moment later it repeated. This time closer.

  


Henry slowly stood up, his movements quiet and deliberate. He didn't notice the dark figure behind him.

  
  


A/N: So what do you think of it? This is my first Tamers fanfiction. (Even though it is AU . . . for now. . . .) I would love to hear your thoughts and your criticisms. So please review. Thank-you.


	2. Chapter One

Oh yes, I forgot this in the prologue:

  


Disclaimer: I don't own. Don't sue me.

  


littleweirdwriter: I'm glad you like this and I hope I don't fall short of your expectations.

  


MoonlightNIV: Heh-heh. Sorry about the wait. The chapter kind of took on a life of its own.

  


Henrika: Echoes? Weeelllll, they are . . . It's a secret. . . . No, they get explained a bit in this chapter, so I hope it answers your question. Yes, Jeri _did _say, "Oh, merciful Shuichon," and Shuichon _is _Suzie's non-dubbed name. Glad you caught that. As to why, well, you'll see as the story continues and the same goes for the rest of your questions. (Cackles evilly.)

  
  


Resonators

  


Chapter1

  


By: squishybookworm

  
  


I use some Japanese weapons in this story. They are as follows:

  


_Bokuto_– A one edged wooden practice sword, curved like a _katana._

  


_Katana_– A one edged, curved blade. You know, those swords you always see the samurai use.

  


_Tonfas_– Can be used in pairs or only one. They're basically a longer stick with a shorter part (the handle) crossed perpendicular to it. Like those clubs policemen carry.

  


_Naginata_– A long pole with a single edged blade at one end. Primarily a woman's weapon because it is so light.

  
  


"Alone. . . ." she whispered. "Always . . . alone. . . ."

  


"Yessss," it hissed. "You'll always be alone. They abandoned you. They left you. None of them cared. They didn't want you. So, you'll always be alone. That is your destiny. Your fate."

  


"My . . . fate. . . . My . . . destiny . . . alone. . . ."

  


"Yessss."

  


Jeri opened her eyes slowly and took a shuddering breath. Wet tracks seeped from the corner of her eyes and past her temples as she stared through a new blur of tears at the ceiling of her high-canopied bed. The same dream again. What was it? What did it mean? 

  


She turned her head slowly to look at her husband's relaxed form. He was on his side with his back to her and one bare shoulder protruding from under the burgundy coverlet. Had she been desperate enough, she would have snuggled up to his back in an attempt to rid herself of the overwhelming sense of loneliness that inevitably accompanied her with the dreams, but she could not. His warmth was a cold one and she longed for another's touch.

  


Slipping from under the covers, she reached for a robe to cover her nude form and to protect herself from the early morning chill, despite the roaring fire in the fireplace across the large room. She padded barefoot across the plush carpet and settled on the window ledge, staring at the first signs of activities happening in the courtyard below. Sound was muted by the thick glass window. Slowly the coldness of her seat became warmed with her body heat and she shifted into a more comfortable position to ponder the significance of her dreams. 

  


They began several weeks ago when _it_ had first appeared. A strange little girl with striated golden eyes. 

  


There had been a fierce storm that had struck with sudden fury and had forced everyone to bolt their doors and pray the winds would not blow the great stone keep over. Rain had pounded against the roof like a drum of war as everyone settled in the great hall for supper. Before the wine could be poured, there was a loud CRACK! Like splintered wood and the large wooden doors blew open. People screamed and scrambled back. Servants dropped platters of food. A crockery of wine shattered near Jeri's foot and soaked her dress, but she did not notice. Splinters flew through the air and one neatly sliced Jeri's cheekbone, but she did not notice. Not when the wound slowly reddened. Not when the blood seeped out. And not when it slid slowly down her cheek. 

  


A girl stood in the center of the door. Her head lowered, short hair matted to her head and her thin, short dress wrapping about her body in sodden folds as the wind continued to howl, blowing great gusts of rain to soak the tables near the door. Her alabaster skin seemed to glow, and her thin limbs did not tremble although the temperature was that of late winter. 

  


Then she lifted her head. And smiled. Her striated golden eyes staring straight at Jeri.

  


After a moment of silence, her husband had laughed, ordering his men to lock the girl up for daring to disturb his hall. All the while she was being led away, the girl's gaze never left Jeri's. The next day, as Jeri was making her way to breakfast, she found the girl walking down the stairs in her husband's company. Her dry hair shone with a vibrant red hue, emphasizing her eerie golden eyes and wide smile. Unnerved, Jeri had hurried ahead of the two. At breakfast, her husband had announced in his usual booming voice that the girl had been adopted into the Shioda family of Raleigh and as his daughter, she would be accorded the respect of her station. Then he'd boomed into laughter, which was not uncommon. But underneath, Jeri could detect a touch of madness that had made her flee from the hall as fast as she could. And the little girl's gaze tracked her running form the entire time.

  


Jeri blew a breath she'd been unconsciously holding and wrapped her arms about her legs. The chill from the window had soaked into her being and she could not stop shivering. 

  


Over the past few weeks, she'd neatly avoided being alone with Ruri, the little girl, but whenever they were in the same room, the golden eyes would follow her every movement. This so unnerved Jeri, she was beginning to feel the eyes even when Ruri was not present. 

  


Then the dreams began. It was always dark and she could see nothing, but every time there were two voices. At first, they were like distant echoes. Soft murmurs that made no sense. Then, gradually, the voices became clearer. Tonight she'd detected faint fuzziness, like looking through water with a cotton cloth over her eyes and it was night. 

  


Jeri hugged her legs closer. She considered writing a letter to her mother of the happenings. Just as quickly, she dismissed it. Her mother would not believe her. The situation was just too strange. She knew her maids would believe her, but they were too timid and she hadn't the heart to drag them into it and as the Duchess of Raleigh, she could not confide her fears to just anyone. She buried her face into her knees.

  


"Takato," she whispered, "I wish you were here. . . ."

  
  
  


She swung the _bokuto_ in a wide arc. It whistled through the air as if tangibly cleaving the soft breeze that wafted into the practice courtyard. There was a loud thwack as the blade struck her opponent's side and he grunted. They froze for a moment. Then with a low groan, he sank to his knees, clutching his side. His own practice sword clattered onto the smooth stone surface beneath and as the last sounds faded away, his attacker sighed. With audible disgust.

  


"You're still too slow, Van!" she barked. "You're not aggressive enough!" She brushed back the few strawberry blond strands that had escaped her tight ponytail and glared down at the young man at her feet. His loose red shirt barely hid the beginnings of an ugly bruise. She wondered briefly what his fiancee would think of such a mark. Would she squeal and simper at his "manly scars"? Or would she cluck her tongue and try to bury him under her gentle ministrations? No, more likely, the young Hitomi would bind him up efficiently and admonish her fiancé for being so careless. This almost made the woman quirk a smile.

  


"Yes . . . Echo. . . Nonaka. . . ." Van bit out. Then he paused to gasp painfully, before standing up slowly and painfully. He bowed carefully, only managing to wince as the position caused new flashes of pain to shoot through his torso. "Thank-you for the practice, Nonaka Rika."

  


"Very well," she replied, returning his bow. "You may take an hour to rest, but no more. Your technique is good, but your strikes lack commitment and you shall work on this. I'll inform your mentor and you are excused." 

  


He nodded before walking away. Past the arches of the entrance to the courtyard, a woman approached him. Rika recognized Hitomi with her unusually short hairstyle. They exchanged a few words before Van turned away abruptly, batting Hitomi's hand when she tried to yank up his shirt to get a good look at the injury. They argued for a bit, but in the end Hitomi, with a triumphant smile, led Van away; all the while poking and prodding his side. 

  


Rika turned away with a slight frown. She absently wiped away the sweat that had already gathered on her brow, despite the cool early morning air. She would never understand those two, but she'd found Hitomi to be a practical and wise person and Van, a bit moody, but kind all the same. They were several years her senior, but had been two of the very first to congratulate her when she'd received her Echo signet over older students such as they, themselves. And they'd been very sincere. A trait she'd come to appreciate. 

  


Rika searched the few students and mentor in the huge yard. All were engaged in sparring of some sort and all were sweating, although not profusely due to the slight nip the wind carried. Some were practicing hand to hand, while some particularly skilled mentors went barehanded against their students with a weapon, and the rest fought against each other with weapons. However there were two standing uncertainly near the open archway. A boy with large glasses fiddled with his _tonfas_, refusing to meet her eyes, while the other, a woman, met her gaze boldly. Rika fought against the urge to rub her temples. They were obviously new. And the only ones unmentored. With an inaudible sigh, Rika beckoned to the dark-haired woman, who seemed somewhat more collected than the other. 

  


The Ohtori Academy supposedly trained individuals with active di-genes for actual combat against the Mistakes. An Echo, one who'd graduated from the Academy, was expected to take on a personal apprentice and train that student in his style of combat and to take the student into battle with him. But some Echoes, like Rika, herself, preferred working alone. To avoid loss of her particular skills, the Academy stipulated that she spend time in the practice courtyard, coaching those without a mentor and even those with a mentor. 

  


Not for the first time, Rika mentally wished that particular rule could just rot. She had nothing against the new students in particular, but in a sparring session with someone like herself, anyone knew they would hardly last three seconds, and she was just too impatient to do her coaching any other way. 

  


So as the dark-haired woman approached her carrying a _naginata_, Rika could hardly suppress a grimace. Rika bowed in greeting and the woman returned it just as formally.

  


"I am Nona–"

  


"Are you really an Echo?" The woman stared doubtfully at the signet pin pinned to Rika's plain linen tunic.

  


Rika frowned slightly, but said nothing.

  


"You just seem a little young. I mean, you look like you're younger than me! And," she looked pointedly at Rika's _bokuto_, "is that not a bit . . . strange for a young lady?"

  


Rika took a slow deep breath and reminded herself that the woman was still a student of the Academy and should not be harmed unduly. "Age has no bearing on my abilities, _ma'am_, and I find a _katana_more versatile than any other weapon."

  


The woman frowned, her mouth twisting slightly.

  


"Shall we get started?" Rika asked, shifting into a neutral stance, her wooden blade held out before her, neither attacking nor defending, but ready to shift to either one.

  


"Wait! What am I supposed to do?!"

  


"Battle."

  


"But-but aren't you supposed to teach me?!" The woman's voice had risen to an interesting octave by the last syllable. 

  


Rika didn't care. "Lesson number one: Always be ready." With that she charged. Wind streamed across her cheeks like a silk sheet as she went from stillness to sudden motion. She brought her weapon up for the woman's open head. A quick kill in a real battle if the woman did not block. "HYAA!" 

  


"Ungh!" The woman threw up her weapon just in time. 

  


Rika's eyes flashed. She changed the trajectory of her blade slightly. 

  


CRACK! Her _bokuto_ connected painfully across the woman's knuckles.

  


"Ow!" The _naginata_ fell with a sharp 'tunk!' It clacked hollowly against the ground several times before rolling to a stop by the woman's foot. 

  


She backpedaled away rapidly, then glared. "Of course, a disgusting _peasant_ would have no idea of fair play."

  


"No intuition," Rika replied evenly.

  


The woman sneered, her red lips parting to show even, white teeth. "What would a vile _commoner_know?" She picked up her weapon and held it at ready. "I'll have you know that you have just struck Lady Mana de Ghent, the Rose Drop of the House of Ghent! For your ill manners, you shall not be forgiven! Get ready–Aah!" 

  


Mana barely managed to bring her _naginata_ up again as Rika's weapon whistled towards her head. 

  


"Unruly insect! Yaaaah!" She swung the blade in a wide arc, straight for Rika's torso. She held nothing back, putting her full weight behind the swing. Too easy. 

  


K-TONK!

  


Wooden blade met wooden blade and the shock traveled down the length to Rika's hands. But she was accustomed to such vibrations. And she'd braced herself accordingly for the vicious attack. 

  


Unfortunately, it seemed, the other woman was not. She gasped, stumbled back from the force of the contact, and almost dropped her weapon again. 

  


Rika leapt back out of range and said, "No skill."

  


A slow red flush crept up Mana's neck to suffuse her cheeks. Her dark eyes glittered malevolently as she gripped her _naginata_ so hard her knuckles turned white. "Lowly wench," she growled, "you'll die. You'll die slowly."

  


A wind, unfelt before, whipped angrily, whirling around Mana and obscuring her eyes with her long dark hair for a moment. Rika shivered slightly, feeling a faint tingle travel along her skin. Surely the woman wouldn't . . . Not over something this minor. . . . 

  


With a sharp crack like wet cloth slapped over granite rocks, the wind reversed and cleared Mana's eyes. Eyes that glittered an almost obsidian, like chips of black ice.

  


Tightening her grip on her practice blade, Rika scowled and adjusted her stance. Dammit! The little twit! What did she think she was doing?! Vibrations for a petty spar like this?! 

  


Then Mana struck.

  


She brought the butt of her weapon in first, trying to gouge Rika's stomach. Her strike was fast! So fast, Rika barely managed to twist and bring her elbow up to jab Mana's face. Red droplets flew into the air, a metallic scent invaded Rika's nostrils, and something wet and warm splattered across her arm. Distantly, she heard a pained cry mixed with rage. 

  


"Vicious, blood-sucking flea!"

  


Rika felt, more than heard, Mana shift her weight to bring the bladed end of her _naginata_to sweep Rika's legs. She swept her _bokuto_, scoring a path of scattered dust into the stone, to meet the other weapon.

  


_CLACK!_

  


Then she dropped, placing her knee behind the blade to keep it in place. Even with this extra leverage, Mana managed to push her back slightly. Huffing lightly, Rika glanced up. 

  


The dark-haired woman was panting already. Breath sawing between her lips that had paled dramatically in the last few seconds. Sweat tracked runnels through her dark hair and tendrils snaked about her face messily, clinging to her wet cheeks. A bright delta of red streamed from her nose and down to her chin where the scarlet liquid dripped steadily like water droplets falling off a melting icicle.

  


It splattered against the _naginata_ pole, creating paints of crimson blossoms.

  


Mana's eyes flickered. Becoming brown, then black, then brown, and black again. A tremor swept her body, and she blinked. Her eyes were black. She was gasping, a furrow creasing her brow. She bared her teeth and heaved, bringing the other end of the _naginata_around in a blurred arc.

  


Not bothering to dodge or block, Rika twirled her sword up and sliced the woman. The blunted edge of the wooden sword prevented her from actually slicing her opponent open, but the strength behind the blow was enough to knock Mana's weapon away and push her off her feet. Her weapon flew from her hands and she landed on her bottom with a strangled cry. 

  


Clutching her nose, Mana looked up with tear-filled eyes. _Brown _eyes. Rika heaved a mental sigh of relief. She really did not want to Vibrate for something this minor. 

  


"No control," Rika said simply.

  


"M-my nose . . ." Mana's voice came through, muffled by her hands and bawling. "Y-you broke my nose!" 

  


Rika wanted to smile vindictively. It was no less than the spoiled wench deserved! "Foolishly using your di-gene abilities without proper training. Thinking you could defeat me with power alone. No sense of control whatsoever. How . . . childish. . . ." Rika turned smartly and stalked off. "This is your lesson. You are excused."

  


"Tramp!" Mana shrieked. "The Ohtori council shall hear of this! I shall have you expelled! Strip your clothes off and whip you! Drag you through the streets! I'll break you! I'll kill you!"

  


Her screeches gradually faded into bawling once more, but no one approached her. Everyone there knew and respected Rika, and they despised such disrespectful behavior even more. The case would have been different if it had been midday and the courtyard full of the student and mentor nobles. Rika was surprised Lady Mana had come down so early as she did.

  


By the entrance, she glared at the bespectacled student, who meekly lowered his gaze and found something else interesting to look at. 

  


Great. Another noble. Little more than a boy.

  


Loud clapping caused her to shift her gaze and spare the poor, squirming boy, who almost sagged in relief. 

  


Her mood fouled even further. Violet eyes hardening, Rika curled her fingers into fists to resist laying one on Ryo's smirk. Doing one noble in was enough for Rika that day. She blinked. Great Shiuchon! What was the world coming to?! _This _many nobles _this _early in the morning?! 

  


"What are you doing here?" Rika demanded. 

  


"Admiring the Ladies in their endeavor to protect the weak men from Mistake attacks." Ryo's grin never wavered.

  


Rika had to admire his ability to spout such garbage with such a straight face. She told him so.

  


His grin dropped and his mouth twisted. "You don't have to be such a sour prude. It wouldn't hurt you to act just a little less like a heathen."

  


"Which is more than I could say of you."

  


"Brat."

  


"Jerk."

  


He sighed, waving his hand as if to ward off an unpleasant stench. "Look, I'm not here to argue with you, alright?"

  


Rika folded her arms and arched one eyebrow in disbelief.

  


"I'm not! I have a message to deliver: You and I, accompanied by a student, are to investigate a Vibration. The Tuners sensed three of them earlier this morning and have finally pinpointed the sources."

  


A slow, savage grin managed to snake across Rika's face. She must look like a mad woman, but she didn't care. "They sensed three of them, you said? Why don't you and the student take one and I'll take the others."

  


"It doesn't work that way, Rika. Besides, two of the three were within three feet of each other and that is the one we'll be looking into."

  


"Then who's investigating the other one?"

  


"Balgus and his student, Van."

  


"Van can't do it. He's injured."

  


"What?!" Ryo covered his eyes and sighed. "Rika, what did you do to him?"

  


"It was a sparring match," she countered defensively, "Of course he's expected to receive his share of pain."

  


"You mean like her?" He jerked his thumb at Mana, whose bawling had become even louder.

  


"Her di-genes should be deactivated," Rika said bluntly. "She's nothing but a bully."

  


"She's a _noble, _Rika."

  


"So?"

  


"So? Rika, there are repercussions for things like this, even if you are a noble yourself."

  


Rika shrugged, "I'll deal with it. Now stay out of it. It's none of your business."

  


He raised his arms as if to ward off a blow. "Fine, fine. Whatever you say." He glanced at the bespectacled student trying to melt into the wall. "Hey." Ryo smiled winningly and the boy returned it shyly. "What's your name?"

  


Alarmed, Rika shook her head and stood before the student. "Oh no, Ryo! He's still green. I haven't even had time to see his abilities yet."

  


Ryo shrugged, "It's like you always say, Rika: What better way to hone one's skill than in battle."

  


"I meant after a reasonable amount of practice," Rika seethed.

  


"Um . . . Excuse me?" the boy asked timidly.

  


"So you're saying you're wrong?"

  


". . . Hello?"

  


"You're even denser than I thought."

  


". . . Hey. . . ?"

  


"Don't bite my head off just because you're a hypocrite."

  


"You can just rot, Ryo."

  


"HEY!"

  


Both Echoes turned to the boy, who flushed under their combined gazes, but he raised his chin defiantly. "I-If you'd allow it, I-I would l-like to accompany you. If you," he took a deep breath, "still doubt my abilities, I'll battle you right here and now." He kept his dark blue eyes steadily trained on Rika's.

  


After a moment, Rika broke the silence, "We don't have time for that. Let me see your hands."

  


Surprised the boy held out his hands, and Rika scrutinized them carefully. She was expecting the soft, smooth hands of one who'd never had to work hard his entire life, and was therefore surprised to find calluses across the ridge of his palm, and a few small white scars criss-crossing the backs of his hand. Appraising him again, she found her initial assessment had been misleading. His baggy practice tunic made him seem scrawny, but in reality hid a wiry strength that had been honed through years of practice. From the small smirk on Ryo's face, Rika suspected he had noticed that and planned for this all along. Dammit! That conniving, little bastard!

  


"What is your name?" Rika asked reluctantly.

  


"Kenta Kitagawa." He belatedly added, "Echo ma'am."

  


"Don't call me 'ma'am'."

  


"Yes, Echo ma—I mean . . . er . . ."

  


"Her name is Rika Nonaka," Ryo said. "And I am Ryo Akiyama. Welcome to the team!"

  


Rika rolled her eyes.

  


Kenta beamed and gave a short bow, "Thank-you!"

  


"You shouldn't be thanking _us_," Rika muttered. "We're probably gonna get you killed. . . ."

  
  


A/N: I tried to make this chapter smaller, but . . . as you can see . . . (Looks up) Ah, well. This chapter was originally much, _much_ longer, but I cut out the last parts and put it into Chapter two instead. Heh-heh.

  


As always, I'd like to hear your thoughts and criticisms. Please review!


	3. Chapter Two

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Henrika: Thank-you very much for reviewing again!  It was very encouraging.  And many of the questions in your first review are answered here.  I think. . . .

               littleweirdwriter: Thanks!  I'm glad you like long chapters 'cause this one's kinda . . . big.  Ha-ha.  Just don't expect too many of these.  Heh-heh.

            MoonlightNIV: Thank you!  I'm glad you liked Chapter 1 as it was.  I did, too, once I went back and reviewed it.  And yes, Jeri's married.  Ha-ha.  But she's also . . . not.  I think if I gave you this time perspective it _might_ make a bit of sense.  Everything up until now has happened in one night and the early morning.  Still confused?  This chapter might clear things up.

            Yay!  Woohoo!  Yipee!  Finals.  Are.  Over!  Hip, hip, hooray!  Hip, hip, hooray!  But then it's time for summer school!

. . . .  

. . . .  

. . . . 

ugh.

. . . .  

. . . . 

I.  

Am.  

Such.  

A.  

Fool. 

. . . .  

. . . .  

. . . .

            Well!  On that note – please enjoy this chapter!

Resonators

Chapter 2

**By squishybookworm**

Henry pushed from his crouch.  Rolled to the side.  Came up on one knee, brow furrowing over his grey eyes just as the sword came whistling down from behind.  It sliced through the air he'd just occupied and connected with a strange shadow that had launched at his face at the same moment.  The sword flashed, appearing only as a brilliant blur as it passed through the small creature.  It screeched like a dying bat and abruptly stilled.  

            "Hah!  I knew you were good, boy!"  Takato placed the tip of his sword into the ground and leaned on it, grinning widely at Henry. 

            Henry straightened up and prodded the dark shadow questioningly.  Light reminiscent of predawn filtered across the sky like slim lady fingers, but the colors were strangely flat and cast no light on the corpse.  The dark clearing was at once familiar and alien. There was no fire, no bedrolls, no lingering stench of ash or the aromatic herb his master loved to smoke. In fact, no evidence _anyone _had been here at all.  But it was definitely the clearing they'd occupied the night before.  Henry turned his questioning gaze to the tall swordsman.

            Takato shook his head.  "You've never heard of the Tunes, boy?  Vibrations?"

            Henry vaguely remembered stories of fantastical lands that existed outside the Kami-Tune, or the real world, that were similar and often strange.  They were lands occupied by mysterious and horrendous beasts known as Mistakes and could only be accessed by a vibrating factor that only Echoes, and sometimes Mistakes, could achieve.  

            Henry swept the clearing with another glance.  The ambiance . . . _felt _familiar. 

            Seeing that Henry was not going to respond, Takato glanced around the clearing and brought his sword up once again.  "Hmph. You mean with your potential, you've never Vibrated before?  Hell, that's how most Echoes discover their di-genes are active."  Takato slanted an odd glance at Henry.  "You know, I have just noticed.  I can't sense your Vibrations."

            Henry simply stared at him.

            Takato sighed loudly.  "Well I do not have time to explain what is happening.  Do you have any weapons?  You will need it soon."

            Raising one brow, Henry flipped his outer robe and pulled his _darn jian_ out with a sharp ring.  The metallic sheen of the thin blade was visible and undulled even in the pseudo light.  The hilt was wrapped with a deep blue leather that matched the shade of his hair.  He remembered when he was younger, his father would allow him to run his fingers for countless hours along the intricate etchings, with silver inlay, at the base of the blade.  It was an ancestral sword that let all know that he was of the Wong clan.  He flicked it experimentally then grasped the sheath in the other hand so that he effectively had a sword and a club.  

            Henry pointed to the shadowed carcass with his blade and raised one eyebrow in question.

            "No.  I killed it too easy, see?  There's at least another one.  One that was strong enough to pull us through."

            Why don't we run away?  Henry pointed to Takato and himself then indicated with his fingers that they run.

            Takato nodded.  "We could do that, but if this Mistake was strong enough to pull us through once, it can do it again."  He swept the clearing with another searching gaze.  "Haven't heard of a Mistake strong enough to actually pull people to another Tune, for quite a while now."  He paused reflectively, "Except for that one village. . . ."  He shook his head, "Anyway,  I think we should just take it out.  Unless," Takato shot a teasing smile at Henry, "of course, you'd really rather not.  Then I could return you and come back and finish this myself."

            Henry shook his head adamantly.  The problem would be dealt with right now.  Master Long was always fond of reminding him that if left alone, problems would eventually come back to bite him in the ass then he'd have no one to blame but himself.             

            To convince the brown-eyed swordsman of his seriousness, Henry turned so he was back to back with him and took up a defensive stance.  They waited.

            The sky slowly lightened in an imitation dawn.  However, the colors were muted and there were no accompaniment of bird song and rodent chatter that usually greeted the rising sun.  The earth underfoot was an even ash-grey tone and vegetation was limp with a faded yellow-green cast.  Henry sniffed and could barely discern the subtle odor of dew-soaked woodlands or rotting leaves.  The wind blew, but felt strange.  Like sand brushing lightly across his skin.

            He tensed.  

Feeling his partner's mood, Takato became even more wary.  "What is it?" he whispered.

For a moment, just as the wind had shifted slightly, Henry had heard a faint rustling that was apart from the swaying blanket of dying leaves above.  He stood absolutely still, barely breathing.  The wind paused as if teasing his stretched senses.  In the stillness, Henry could hear only the pounding of his heart in his ears and the soft inhalations and exhalations of his older comrade.  Then the wind picked up again, scratching softly against his cheek.  

He jerked.  Twisted around suddenly.  Takato's rigid back filled his view and he peeked around the taller man.  A breeze swept past again.  It brought with it a faint smell of . . . _something. _ It seemed  musky like a furred animal, and yet, like the strange distortions of color and light, the stench was somehow diluted with something that was almost . . . chemical.  This scent was _familiar. _ 

His eyes narrowed.  He shot forward.  A faint shout sounded behind him, but he pressed on.  'This stench,' his mind growled.  The stench of those . . . those _things!_  Those putrid, horribly deformed monstrosities.   He'd kill them!  This time . . . for sure, he'd kill them all!

            A stray branch slapped his face, bringing with it a spray of water droplets that tasted like copper.  He stopped.  His harsh breathing scratched his ears and the limp vegetation around him shook as if silently mocking him.  He listened.  Tried to catch the same scent again.  But now, in the denseness of the forest flora, no wind could blow freely, and if it did, all he'd be able to detect was the diluted stench of ashes.  

            Copper and ash.

            Henry gagged slighty.  His chest tight as if the death that permeated the air was physically clawing down his throat for his warm, beating heart.  

            Like ash.  

            Henry stared at his trembling hands and clenched them, the knuckles turning white against the dark blue sheath.  

            Like copper.  

            He took a shuddering breath and closed his misty grey eyes.

            Like blood. 

            _The fire crackled.  Sparks flew up into the cold air, floated down lazily to sear his arms.    Shrieks and cries of pain filled the air and he just wanted to cover his ears.  But when he looked at his hands, blood speckled his palms like sprinkled red rain.  The screams crescendoed. _

            "He is here!  Just look!"

            Henry turned back, panting slightly, as Takato's voice carried loudly to his position.

            He straightened up and worked to bring his breathing under control.  The scent was lost.  What ever had pulled him through was gone.  He slipped his _darn jian _into its sheath and ran a trembling hand through his short blue-black hair, causing it to rise up in spikes.

            "We can only sense _your _Vibrations!  There is no one else here!"

            Henry frowned.  It was a woman who'd spoken.  Where had she come from?  And the faint accent was familiar.

            "He wouldn't have gone back yet!" Takato exclaimed, "He does not even know what a Tune is!"

            "It is still possible.  Even if he is new, if he _really _wanted to go back, he could possibly pull it off."

            "He is not like that."

            "You have known him for less than a night . . ."

            "He is not that kind of person."

            "And what kind of person would that–oh!"

            The branches parted before Henry and he came face to face with a dark-haired woman.  Her wine red eyes flashed in surprise and she leapt back.  The bushes to Henry's right rustled and a moment later, Takato's unruly brown locks appeared above before his face poked through the foliage.  He grinned widely at Henry then turned to the woman, who had one hand held over her heart.

            "See?" he said.  "I told you so."

            She glared at Takato before tossing one of her long, dark pigtail behind one shoulder.  "Hmph.  Unmannered brute," she muttered.  Then she transferred her glare onto Henry.  

            Henry blinked.  She was an exceptionally beautiful woman a few years older than he.  She wore dark and thick robes that were similar to Henry's except instead of trousers, she wore long skirts.  He saw one pantalon-covered leg peek through a slit up the side of the skirt and revised his opinion of the practicality of her clothes.  Her long dark-red hair were pulled up into to pigtails on either side of her head framing her almond-shaped eyes, which blinked at him, curiosity and anger battling for dominance in the deep red orbs.

            "Why can't I sense your Vibrations?" she demanded.  Apparently, curiosity won. 

            When he didn't answer, she frowned.  With a high-pitched ring, she pulled her sword from the sheath.  Henry idly noted that it was a _darn jian _and had some red and gold etchings at the base of the blade, indicating that she was of the Clan of Li.  What was a Northerner doing here? 

            "Hey!"  Takato shouted.  "Put that thing away!  I thought you were here to save us!"

            She ignored the mercenary.  "Answer me," she barked.  "Or are you mute?"

            "He is mute," Takato said quietly.

            She looked stunned.  Her sword hung limply from her fingers and her mouth hung agape.  Her cheeks slowly reddened.  "W-well, I guess-I guess . . .  Oh."  She rammed her sword back into the sheath and sniffed, glaring once again at Takato.  "You oaf.  Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

            Takato shrugged.  Then grinned impishly.  "You never asked."

            "Hmph!  Well."  She paused, almost glaring at Henry again.  

            He lifted one brow.  What was she so angry about?  It wasn't like this scene hadn't happened to him thousands of times before.

            She huffed.  "Well!  Let's go!  We are wasting time.  Trowa?  Come on."

            Henry started in surprise as a tall, slim man he hadn't noticed seemed to materialize from his left.  His leather tunic and faded green vest had blended so well with the vegetation that he'd nearly been invisible.  A long bow rested in comfortably in his hand.  He was either very confident of his skill with the weapon or unskilled with the more common crossbow, which took longer to load, but was often more deadly and more accurate.  

            Auburn hair fell over Trowa's fore head, partially hiding one of his startling green eyes as he glanced at Henry.  

            ". . ." Trowa greeted.

            ". . ." Henry replied.

            ". . ."

            ". . ."

            PAP!

            "Good grief, Trowa!" Mei Ling exclaimed.  "You do not have his excuse!  _Say _something!"

            Trowa rubbed the back of his head where the shorter woman had smacked him.  "That . . . hurt . . . Mei Ling."

            Mei Ling rolled her eyes.  "Good.  The purpose has been served."  Then she rushed over to Takato's side.  "Now, come on.  Let us go."

            "Wait!"  Takato spread his hands as if warding off an attack from Mei Ling.  "What about the Mistake?"  

            "You two are going back," Mei Ling said grimly.  "I will not have bystanders getting involved in something they know nothing about."

            "You?"  Takato raised his brows.  "So you're saying _you _are going to protect _me_?"  He folded his arms and straightened to his full height.  He presented an imposing figure with his battle-scarred chainmail, muscled arms, and fierce scowl.  Mei Ling took an involuntary step back.  Even then, she had to crane her neck to glare defiantly up at the mercenary. 

             "If you haven't noticed," Takato rumbled, "I am twice your age _and _I have thirty years of training and combat.  Tell me, _missy_, you two," he indicated Trowa with a nod of his head, "look awfully _young_.  What makes you think you can defeat this thing by yourself?"

            "I-Well I–" Mei Ling averted her eyes.  She coughed.  "Well . . . We have been _trained.  _Besides," she turned back to scowl at Takato, "Mistakes aren't like people.  One can't kill them with conventional weapons.  Have _you _ever fought one before?" 

            He shook his head, "Nope.  Can't say that I have, but then, you _kids _have not done so either, I wager." 

            "We are not infants," Mei Ling sniffed, "and if _you _think–"

            "Mei Ling."

            At Trowa's quiet voice, Mei Ling bit her lip and glanced back.  Trowa didn't even bat an eyelid, but Mei Ling must have read something in those green orbs because she nodded tersely to Takato.  "Okay."  She tipped her head at Henry.  "What about you?"  She added stiffly, "We have little time, so be quick about your decision."

            He wondered how his master would fare. Master Long was spry and often stronger than he looked, but . . . There were many other dangers besides Mistakes and he might worry if Henry was gone too long.

            Where is Master Long?  Henry tried to ask Takato.  

            Unfortunately, after several tries of expansive hand gestures, Takato shook his head and said, "I am sorry.  I don't know what you want."

            "Is it about that older gentleman we met back at the clearing?"  

            Surprised, Henry turned at Trowa's low voice.  He nodded.

            "He says he knows you'll be able to take care of yourself.  He'll wait for you there."

            Then there was no more to be said.  Apparently, Master Long expected him to aid these two newcomers.  Unexpectedly, a feeling of apprehension washed over him.  He'd practiced for many years with his weapon, but he'd never used it in actual combat, and against a Mistake, no less!  He swallowed thickly.

            "Well?" Mei Ling prodded.

            Henry nodded slowly.  

            "Alright.  Let us hurry.  My head is beginning to hurt."

            Takato blinked in surprise.  He followed the petite woman, as they all forded through the bushes single file with Trowa bringing up the rear.  "Should we not Vibrate back to the Kami Tune first?  Take a rest?" Takato asked.

            Mei Ling waved a hand without looking back.  "No.  We have to find the Mistake soon or it might pull others through.  I will be fine."  She turned her head slightly to peer at Takato and Henry from the corner of her eyes.  "Why are you two not fatigued?  You have been here longer."

            Takato shook his head.  "No," he paused to duck under a low hanging branch, "I am beginning to feel it."

            Henry's brow creased in confusion.  What were they talking about?  He glanced back at Trowa and found that the ginger-haired man seemed to be panting slightly.  He also looked slightly paler and there were lines of strain around his green eyes.  Henry turned back.  It was then he realized his companions' breathing were becoming heavier and they were constantly wiping runnels of sweat from their brow although they hadn't been walking long and the air was fairly cool.  Henry's frown became deeper.  Something was affecting them, but he, himself, felt nothing.   

            Wherever this "Mistake" was, they'd better find it. . . .  

            Behind him, Trowa stumbled slightly and paused to regulate his breathing carefully.

            . . . And find it soon.

            She had watched countless generations pass.  The memories of faces, laughter, and tears were all swirled into one muddy kaleidoscope of images that flew swiftly through her mind's eye.  Tired of life.  Unbearably alone, yet unable to depart permanently, she took the only refuge she could find.  She'd slept.  For thousands of years . . . a millennium . . .two seconds . . . she didn't know how long.  But she'd slept.  

            And when she'd awoken, there had been six faces peering down at her.  For a moment her breath caught as tears sprang to her eyes.  For a moment she'd imagined it had all been a dream.  A very bad dream.  But as she'd peered at the tense faces, she'd realized there was one missing.  One very important one.  One who'd never come back.  And with that, she'd known it was all too real and they were not the ones in her memories of that time so long ago.  

            No.  These were the first Resonators.

            _Wark!  Wark!  Wark!_

            Shuichon slowly cracked her eyes open.  She let out a soft sigh as her heart picked up its pace from the verge of death.  White mist wafted from her mouth and pooled onto the glass surface before her, momentarily obscuring the room beyond.  She shivered violently as a hiss echoed throughout the tiny chamber, flushing the freezing air that had kept her asleep for who knew how long.

            There was a final whoosh and a metallic clink.  Then the door thrust open slightly.  Trembling, gasping, and aching, she flattened her blue-tinged hands against the door and pushed.  It moved slowly and she had to stop to gasp for air before continuing again.  

            Once she'd slid out, she lay there, panting and trying to gather her thoughts.  

            _She rolled over and almost cried.  Above her, they stood, staring down at her as if they'd only just gone for a walk.  But as she scanned the faces, she realized that one was missing.  _He _was not there.  And she wanted to cry all over again._

            "Are you alright?" the brown-eyed girl asked.  Her face was Jeri's.  It was amazing.  The process had never been this perfect before.

_            "Of course, she isn't!  Did you feel the air coming out of that . . . that thing!  It felt like snow!"  The boy had dark blue eyes and he waved his arms wildly to prove his point.  Only Kazu. . . ._

_            "Shut up, idiot," Rika snapped from her place behind the group.  "We don't have time to fool around."_

_            "No," Ryo said, "but you don't need to snap either, _Princess._"_

_            "How about I just smash your teeth?" Rika replied sweetly._

_            "H-hey.  Let's not fight, okay?" Kenta ventured timidly._

_            They glared at him, but did not continue._

_            "Mistress Shuichon?"  _

_            Shuichon turned her head to look up at Takato.  He seemed so real.  So na__V__ve.  So earnest.  And he seemed awestruck, speaking in hushed, reverent tones._

_            "Mistress Shuichon?  We really, really need your help.  Please help us. . . ."_

_            Wark!  Wark!  Wark!_

Shuichon rose from the floor slowly, wincing as cramped muscles screamed in protest.  Sleep beckoned so strongly, like a heavy blanket that weighed her limbs down and promised her escape from the bitter cold that nipped her skin raw.  

            _Wark!  Wark!  Wark! _

            She needed to get warm.  She needed to hurry.  That alarm only meant one thing.

_             She sat up and listened to their story.  And became quickly alarmed.  _

            It had arisen again.  She'd thought it had been defeated so long ago and with a pang, she remembered the last sacrifice that had finally driven it off.  Looking at the determined expressions on the faces of these six, she could only see six others who'd worn the same expressions so, so long ago.  Biting back a wave of tears and despair, she worked feverishly to help them.  She'd been helpless the first time.  This time, she would make a difference.  This time, she would not let them die!

            She wanted to cry, but it seemed her tears had run out after their deaths.  She'd tried her hardest.  She'd done everything she could!  She couldn't have done better.  

            It had only been enough to drive _it _back and keep it out of the Kami-Tune.

            And now . . . it was back.  

            The continent of Midgar was the largest on the world known as Eden.  It was comprised of the Clow Empire in the north; the Duchy of Raleigh in the west; the Aav, a matriarchically religious state in the east; and the chains of islands in the south, ruled by ships of pirates.  Located almost in the center was the independent city-state of Inepril, where many major roads converged making it a prime trading spot.  

            It was also home to the famous Ohtori Academy, which was known for producing many of the finest scholars and, in recent times, where children of noble families were _expected _to attend before inheriting their titles.  The lack of Mistake attacks and the relatively few who had active di-genes and could afford to travel contributed to the low awareness of Ohtori Academy's _other _purpose: training and deploying Echoes to contain Mistakes when they arose.  

            But often times, many Echoes were just Tuners, those only powerful enough to _sense _the Vibrations of others.  Consequently, the few councilmen still knowledgeable about Ohtori's true purpose were quick to recruit the rare individual who managed to Vibrate to an outside Tune.  

            Finding _two _Vibrations within three feet of each other was an event they were not willing to let go at all.  So, they sent out their best two Echoes to find and return with the individuals.

            After changing into a standard uniform that the Academy insisted all students wear when leaving the campus grounds, Rika, Ryo, and Kenta had Vibrated through several Tunes to find their charge.

            Their destination was just past the Raleigh border.  There were two ways to travel.  One was by physically traveling over land, which could take weeks or they could transgress the Tunes and use the strange paths there, which connected to other parts of the land that wouldn't exist in the Kami-Tune.  The latter option was faster, but also more dangerous.  But they were headed into the Tunes anyway, so the three had opted for travel through the Tunes.  

            A little over an hour later, they'd found themselves in a quaint neighborhood with a cobblestone street and tall stone buildings like sentinels lining either side.  A strip of bright blue with streaks of white swirled crazily above, but provided light in the shadowed street.  

            They stood before what seemed to be a baker's shop.  This was where the Tuners had sensed the Vibrations.

            Rika shook her head.  She wished the colors and grain pattern on the wooden door would stop swirling.  They were like hundred of snakes wriggling around madly, making her dizzy.  And the sounds!  The barest rustle of their skin-tight pantalons or stiff grey jackets echoed hollowly in her head as if someone was using her skull as his forge. Their soft, dark leather boots scraping at loose gravel seemed like the squeals of dying rats and made her teeth ache. 

            And not that Rika wasn't pleased with the Council's obvious high regard for her skills, but honestly, did they have to pair her with _him_?  The object of her ire was currently inspecting the area before the wooden door of the bakery as if he could force the dusty ground to give him a full account of what had transpired.  Puh!  The dolt.

            Throughout the whole journey, he'd done nothing but aggravate her by explaining anything and everything, from what a Tune was exactly to why they were wearing the uniform of the Ohtori Academy.  Rika snorted.  Granted, this was her first time on a hunt, but she wasn't a complete simpleton.  She remembered everything her mentor had taught her.  She didn't need to be lectured by this . . . this _boy, _who had never fought a Mistake either.   

            "Echo Akiyama?"  Kenta asked tentatively.  "Do you know where they went?"

            Rika clenched her teeth at the obvious awe in the student's voice.  He'd been like that, deferring to Ryo ever since Ryo had come back from changing into his uniform and carrying a huge sword that was half as wide as he was and slightly shorter than himself.  Kenta's eyes had gone wide and he'd wasted no time in questioning the blue-eyed Echo about his sword.  

            What a dolt.  A large sword like that only required strength to wield it.  There was no skill involved with bludgeoning the opponent to death.  Rika's hand tightened on the hilt of her _katana._  It had been a parting gift her mother had had made especially for her.  The balance, the length of the gleaming blue blade, and the leather wrapped hilt felt perfect in her hands.  It deserved nothing less than real combat.  Today, it would finally feel the wet kiss of the blood of an opponent.  She would imagine her mother's proud smile, as she stood triumphant over the dead carcass of the Mistake.  Nothing less than the best.  

            Ryo straightened from his crouch and smiled at the student.  "They went that way."  He pointed down the street, which was quickly bisected by another cobbled street.  His demeanor was confident, although she was sure he did not have any tracking skills.

            She followed them.  It wasn't like she was an expert tracker herself and she was anxious to get started.  A bubble of excitement and nervousness was slowly expanding in her stomach and her fingers twitched every time their boots scratched along the ground or their clothes shifted over their skin.

            Then, just as they reached the crossroad, a loud crash resounded from a building.  She tensed, hoping to hear it again.

            "It came from down there!"  Ryo ran down the new street.  Paused at the second house to listen.  

            Scowling at his rash action, Rika followed, drawing her _katana_ carefully.  Ryo already had his Buster blade held out before him seeming too large and heavy for his teenage frame.  But his arms were steady and his blue eyes scanned the area alertly.  

            Behind her, she could hear Kenta's breath hitch slightly as he drew closer to her.  She turned back, a snarl ready on her lips, but another crash sounded from the house Ryo stood before.              Behind her, she could hear Kenta's breath hitch slightly as he drew closer to her.  She turned back, a snarl ready on her lips, but another crash sounded from the house Ryo stood before.  tc "Behind her, she could hear Kenta's breath hitch slightly as he drew closer to her.  She turned back, a snarl ready on her lips, but another crash sounded from the house Ryo stood before.  Behind her, she could hear Kenta's breath hitch slightly as he drew closer to her.  She turned back, a snarl ready on her lips, but another crash sounded from the house Ryo stood before.  " 

               Ryo raised his sword and brought it down onto the door.  The door exploded inwards, unable to withstand the heavy sword.  A loud shriek sounded, and Ryo bounded in before the splinters had settled around him.

            "Ryo!"  Rika shouted.  Dammit!  The cursed idiot could be running into a trap!  "You!" she said over her shoulder, "Stay out here and watch the door!  And don't go running off, dammit!"

            "O-okay—"

            She'd already leapt through the door.  Tucked her body into a roll and came up into a crouch her bared sword at ready.  The room she'd leapt into was empty.  Many trestle tables were scattered around the room and a large fireplace dominated the far wall.  To the left of that was a stairway that went up into darkness.  A bar to her left led to a curtained doorway, which she assumed led to the kitchen.  

            She only had time to tell Kenta to enter before a sound like a frying pan hitting a thick skull and a feminine wail echoed through the doorway.  She pushed the curtain aside.  Then leapt back as Ryo stumbled through.

            "What is happening?" she demanded.  

            In answer, a strange . . . animal came through the door.  She bit her tongue as a small scream burbled suddenly into her throat.  It seemed like a quiltwork of fur and skin.  Even the fur varied.  There were patches of short green that gradually faded into long yellow tufts and reds that ended abruptly, where curly black would begin.  The thing stood on four legs, but one leg was clawed like a chicken's foot.  What was strangest was the head, which rested on a long graceful neck like a swan's, and was nothing but a cloud of smoke.  Large eyes peered at the two Echoes malevolently.  

            A Mistake.

            It opened its mouth, which was shaped eerily like a human's and spoke, "Uuuurrrooouuu . . . huroo . . . hur . . . hur . . . huroooot . . . meeehhhh. . . ."  It bobbed its hazy head rapidly and the eyes glowed almost obsidian.  "Urrraaarrrrgghh!"

            Rika had to force herself to stop trembling as it gurgled.  The strange echo in the place did not soften the gutteral sounds.  Indeed, it enhanced the almost liquid rumble low in the monster's throat that accompanied the Mistake's voice.  

            She brought her sword closer as if it would force the creature back.

            With shocking speed, its head snapped at Ryo's legs.  The brown-haired boy brought his sword down to deflect the blow.  But instead of connecting, in a whip-like motion, it brought its head back up.  It opened its mouth. 

            "Ryo!" Rika warned.

            He rolled to the side just as a large puff of glowing smoke exited the Mistake's mouth and struck the ground where he'd been.  It sizzled and clouded briefly.  Then dissipated to reveal a charred area on the wooden floor.  

            Just as the short-haired Echo was about to gain his feet, the Mistake cuffed him with his chicken claw.  It connected with Ryo's chest and left behind two bleeding, jagged lines.

            Ssshwipp!  Rika brought her _katana_ down in a clear arc across the creature's back.

            "Rreeeaaaggghhh!"  

            She never saw the attack.  The horrible amalgamation kicked back like a donkey would.  Caught her in the stomach.  All the air whooshed out of her as she flew back.  She heard a dull thud.  Pain blossomed from the back of her skull and she fell to the ground in a boneless heap.  

            Gasping desperately to feed her oxygen starved lungs she glanced up with blurry eyes to see Kenta fending off the monster with his _tonfas.  _The idiot!  

            She struggled to her knees, but the world kept spinning as if whatever was swirling the colors felt things would be interesting if the rest of the damn world spun, too!      

            Leaning onto her sword, she finally managed to stand; although, her legs wobbled noticeably.  The ugly knot of fear sat in her stomach like a packed ball of snow.  She swallowed thickly.  This was combat.  This was the real thing.  She had to be strong.  Her eyes blurred as hot liquid threatened to fall.

            Dammit!  She didn't have time for this!  She forced herself to ignore the battle briefly, ignore the tremors in her hands, and the small scream making her throat ache as she held it in.  She stood absolutely still, breathing shallowly.  The small weight in her stomach was cold.  But now, it was like the blue of her gleaming blade, and it slowly spread throughout her body.  Paralyzing.  Almost.  

            The fine hairs along her arms rose.  Everything seemed to slow.  Ryo's powerful swipes seemed heavy as if they were being dragged through a lake of dough.  Kenta, maneuvering himself into a sitting position after plowing into a table, took mind-numbing seconds to complete his movement.  The Mistake's lightning fast strikes slowed to a crawl.  

            "Ryo!" she shouted, "Outta the way!"

            She rushed forward.  Ryo glanced over his shoulder and only had enough time to stumble back, a look of shock on his face, as Rika blew past him.  

            The creature shot another of its glowing smoke.  But Rika was too fast!  Too fast!  

            She grunted and sliced.  

            "Eeeeaaaaagggghhhhh!"

            It stumbled as one of its legs went flying.  Then tried to catch Rika with its clawed foot.  But the red-haired Echo had already spun around on the balls of her feet and managed to get behind the monster.  With one blurred swipe, she lopped off the creature's head.  

            There was no sound.  Just the soft thump as the Mistake's head thunked against the wall and the face dissolved.

            Kenta turned large, almost fearful, eyes onto her, "E-echo Nonaka?"

            She felt cold.  Her chest was tight.  And she couldn't stop shivering.

            "W-wow . . ." Kenta breathed.  "You were . . . you were great, Echo Nonaka!"

            A wave of exhaustion washed over her and she dropped to her knees, the sword clanging loudly against the floor.  Kenta flinched.

            Panting, Rika regarded the bleeding carcass and couldn't help but feel nauseated.  She'd won, right?  She'd beaten it.  Her mother would be happy.  

            But she was only glad she hadn't had a chance to eat that morning or everything would be on the floor then. 

            "I-is she alright?"

            Rika turned her head at the feminine voice.  A boy and girl about her age stood in the doorway of the kitchen.  The boy's large maroon eyes flicked quickly from her to the body of the Mistake behind her and he tugged uncertainly at the hem of his rough tunic.  He ran a hand through his mess of brown hair and turned to Ryo.

            "Can we just get out of here?"

            "Let's make sure she's alright first."  The girl approached Rika, her long heavy skirts swishing against the floorboards.  She carried a dented frying pan in one hand and Rika managed to catch her breathe long enough to raise one eyebrow questioningly at it.

            The girl blinked doe-like eyes and glanced at her apparatus.  "Oh?  This?"  She laughed nervously, toying with the tips of her brown hair with her free hand.  "That," she glanced at the Mistake, shuddered then kept her gaze firmly fixed on Rika's, "that _thing_ was . . . and we couldn't just . . . so . . . so Takato and I . . . well . . ."   She waved the pan vaguely as if that would explain her whole distorted narration.  

            Well, they had guts, Rika could give them that.  But they wouldn't have lasted much longer if she and the others hadn't arrived.  She grunted and struggled to her feet. 

            "Hey!  You really shouldn't move now!" the girl tried to push Rika back down, but she shrugged off the well-meaning gesture and glared.  The girl took a faltering step back.  She looked down.  "I-I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to offend you."

            The boy, Takato, swiftly crossed to her side and placed a comforting arm across her shoulder.  He frowned at the violet-eyed Echo. . . .  Or tried to.  Unfortunately, his nervousness was evident as he swallowed and stuttered, "H-hey . . . !  Ap-pologize t-to Jeri!"

            Rika merely hardened her gaze.

            "Eep—!"  Takato strangled his outcry and dug his fingers into Jeri's shoulder.

            "Ow!  Stop that, Takato!"  She pushed the brunette away and rubbed her sore shoulder.

            "Oh!  Sorry!  Sorry!"

            "Don't worry about Rika," Ryo said.  "She is always like that.  Just leave her alone and she won't hate you too much."

            Rika transferred her glower to the cocky Echo, but he merely smirked in return.  She was too tired to retort anything.

            "Let's go," Ryo continued.  "Can you make it, Rika?  Or do you want me to carry you?"  

            Her limbs felt like they would fall off her body, they felt so heavy, and her head felt like someone had strapped a one hundred kilogram weight to her forehead.  She wanted to just curl up and let oblivion claim her.  Lie on the blood-slicked floor and close her eyes.

            No way.  
            She'd been victorious.  She was strong.  She'd make her mother proud.

            "Touch me and I'll break your fingers," she managed through clenched teeth.

            Ryo shrugged.  "Whatever you say."

            They all filed towards the door quickly.  Kenta opened the door and Takato and Jeri gasped when they were greeted not with the familiar cobble-stoned street, but a forest instead.  The vegetation was strangely faded and no odor wafted in with the dry breeze that blew through the door.  

            Kenta looked uncertainly over his shoulder at Ryo, who quickly made his way up to the front of the group.  He swept the area with a cursory glance before stepping through.  Nodding to the others, he kept a careful hold on his weapon.

            "W-what?  How . . . ?"

            "The Tunes are often like this.  Many paths exist and they are fairly easy to follow, once you've learned the pattern.  But sometimes," he moved forward as the others followed past the portal, "Sometimes some appear where there wasn't one before and sometimes they disappear."  He paused, inspecting a trunk intently.  "I recognize the trees.  They look like the trees that grow in Veda forest."

            "Veda forest?" Takato queried.

            "Yes.  It's just north of Inepril."

            "Inepril?!  How did we get so far?"

            "That's just how the Tunes work.  Traveling through, one can go very far or very close depending on the path one takes.  Anyways, I think this is good."

            "Good?"  Jeri tilted her head questioningly.  "For what?"

            "Oh yes.  I should introduce us, shouldn't I?  My name is Ryo Akiyama.  That very unpleasant lady you've just met is Rika Nonaka."  

            Rika snorted and turned away from the conversation, pretending to be absorbed in guarding the clearing.

            "And this is Kenta Kitagawa."

            Kenta bobbed his head and chirped, "Nice to meet you."

            "We were the Echoes sent, by the Ohtori Academy, to fetch you."

            "You're ECHOES?!"  

            If he widened his eyes any further, Rika thought his eyeballs would fall out.

            "WOW!  Jeri!"  The brunette turned to the girl.  "Did you hear that?!  They're . . . They're . . ."

            "Echoes.  Yes, I know, Takato," Jeri replied gently.

            At this point, Rika felt it was prudent to interrupt the conversation, especially since Takato was turning an alarming shade of red as he panted shallowly.  After all, the Councilmen did want them alive.

            "Great, we're all introduced.  Should I pull out some tea and cookies while we're at it?  This isn't some picnic, Ryo.  We're still in danger."

            "I know that, _Princess_, but that doesn't prohibit common courtesy."

            "Common courtesy can just kiss my a—"

            "There!  It is over there!"

            "Where?"

            "There!"

            What?  There were other people?

            Everyone in the clearing immediately tensed as the sounds of bodies rushing through the undergrowth drew near.

            Rika brought her _katana _up trying to still the slight tremors in her hands.  She still felt _so _tired.  The sword was incredibly heavy and it was all she could do to keep it up in the neutral position.

            A low whoosh flattened the bushes to her right, and a long, dark-skinned and clawed hand reached for her face.  A familiar cold knot formed low in her stomach.  Her breath hitched.  Her heart sped up.

            'Why me?' she thought as she brought her sword up to block.  It was coming.  She braced herself.  Knew she wouldn't be able to stop it at the speed it was coming.  She sucked in a breath.  Squeezed her eyes shut.  And waited.

            And then she was weightless.

            'Oh,' she thought, 'It must have hit me so hard I'm flying . . . again.'  But wait.  There was no pain.  Nothing but the faint throbbing of bruises from her earlier fight.  In fact, there was something warm pressed against her cheek.  'I must be so delirious with pain, I'm hallucinating!'

            She opened one eye carefully to peer up at the profile of a youth who was clearly a Northerner.  He flicked gray eyes down at her briefly before gazing up again.

            She felt a slight jolt and realized they had landed.  Then noticing her position relative to the youth (plus her proximity) and the fact that she'd been staring, she flushed slightly and began struggling.  

            "Oof!  Let go of me, you pervert!"

            [Pervert?  Who're you calling a pervert, you ungrateful twit!]

            Rika managed to push out of his arms.  She landed ungracefully onto the ground and clambered to her feet quickly.  Or she tried to.  But her legs chose that moment to finally give in to exhaustion and they collapsed underneath her.  So, she settled for glaring up at the boy instead.

            "_I'm _calling you a pervert, you juvenile delinquent!  And I never asked you to save me!"

            The boy looked shocked.  His misty eyes widened and his mouth fell open slightly.  [Y-you can hear me?]

            Rika frowned, turning back to a battle currently being waged behind her.  "Of course I can hear you, dolt.  I'm not deaf."  Then her eyes widened as she realized something.  She whipped her head back to stare at he boy in disbelief.  "You . . . your mouth never moved!"

            [Yes, I know that.  What I want to know is: how can _you _hear what I'm saying?]

A/N:  I am sooooo sorry for the delay.  But hey, that means longer chapters, ne?  Whew!  But the real reason this chapter took so long was because there was an important scene that I kept re-editing.  The first time I wrote it, too much of the plot was revealed and then, when I edited it, there was too little information.  And so on from there.  I'm still not happy with the scene, but . . . (sigh) oh well.  

            I've made references to six, possibly seven, other animes and one RPG.  If you can guess the six, only the six! animes, then if you tell me about a scene you'd like to see in this fic, I'll try to write it in during a future chapter.  (If you can guess the seventh anime-very ambiguous!- _and_ the RPG, then I'll think of something better.  I don't know what it is yet.  Aheh-heh-heh.  Suggestions?)

As always, comments and criticisms are greatly appreciated.  Thanks!


	4. Chapter Three

Henrika: I'm glad you like this story so far. Errr . . . the timeline is still confusing? Gee, I just keep making things more confusing the more I try to explain, don't I? Maybe a few more chapters _will _help. Now I just have to convince myself to write them now. . . . Heheh.

  


MoonlightNIV: Haha. I guess there are just too many mysteries I'm unwilling to part with right now, so no answer will truly be answered until the very end. And even _that_ is not a guarantee. Hee-hee.

  


littleweirdwriter: That repetitive paragraph was not intentional, but it was my fault really. I was having some trouble thinking of what to write in that part, so I kept cutting and pasting a lot in that part. I must have pasted twice or something. 

  
  


Disclaimer (I keep forgetting this!): I don't own Digimon, but I'm using the characters for my story. Oh yeah, and names of people or places from Trigun and Escaflowne. . . . And Sailor Moon (this one's really iffy) . . . Oh, and Final Fantasy 7 and Cardcaptor Sakura and Gundam Wing. 

  


Oh right! And RG Veda and Revolutionary Girl Utena and . . . and that's it . . . I think. . . .

  
  
  


Resonators

By squishybookworm

  


"Hey, you!" Ryo shouted. "Take Rika and go!"

The boy's grey eyes snapped up to meet his. He hesitated, glancing at the strange Mistake that had appeared before them.

Ryo growled. Did the boy not have any sense? Rika was fatigued. She was no help here if they had to worry about possibly injuring her. "Take her back!"

"Henry!" Another man, an older swordsman, barked. "She's Vibrated too much. She needs to get back before it backlashes."

Henry nodded once before picking up the weakly protesting Rika. She struggled briefly, but her weakened muscles would not allow her to put up much of a fight. Abruptly she stopped and glowered up at him. She said something and then Henry took off with a loping gait that relayed him and his passenger quickly away from the battle.

Assured of their relative safety, Ryo turned back to the fight. Only to be slammed back with enough force that he stopped breathing momentarily. 

He stared up at the sky for a few heart-stopping moments as the weight that had crashed into him shifted then rolled off with a pained groan. 

"Sorry, kid," the swordsman huffed.

Said boy grimaced. "Umph." He sat up, biting back a low moan. Placing one protective hand over his bruised ribs, he made his painful way to his feet. A twinge from his earlier injury reminded him, how much they'd been Vibrating to get through those Tunes. 

"Who are you?" he asked testily.

"I'm Tak—" 

A loud crash and an accompanying shout sounded. The Mistake stopped long enough that Ryo could finally get a good glimpse of it. It was solid black and humanoid, but the arms and legs were too long and they were jointed like a spider, causing it to move on all four limbs. Hair sprouted all over its body, the filaments writhing and whipping about like extra appendages. The head was small. Ryo shuddered as the face made an expression of terrible glee. It was as if a child's head had been mounted on an enlarged arachinoid body.

Ryo followed its gaze. His eyes widened in alarm. 

Takato and Jeri were aiding Kenta from where the Mistake had punched him.

The creature's hair stiffened to sharp points. They launched at the trio.

"Watch out!" Ryo cried, even as he pushed himself off. 

Kenta's head snapped up. He pushed the other two and they all leapt to the side, landing in a pile of arms and legs. 

"BASTARD!" Ryo cried. Faster! He had to go faster!

A spurt of red slashed down Kenta's back and he cried out in pain. The other two grabbed his arms as the hair circled around, seeking to impale the young student.

Wwwhhhoooish!

With an almost elegant flick, Ryo's Buster Sword sliced through the strands easily.

"Kenta is my charge," Ryo intoned evenly. The shadow of his sword fell across his eyes, enhancing the brilliantly angered aquamarine orbs. "No one touches him."

His eyes flashed. A familiar tingle traveled the length of his spine. When he charged the monster, it clearly did not expect the speed he'd achieved. His weapon came down hard, like Zeus' lightning bolt. 

The Mistake stared dumbly at its severed arm. 

Whish! Whish! 

Two arrows thunked into its side, flinging it onto its side. A green-eyed man stepped out of the bushes and nocked another arrow. But before he could release his third arrow, the monster shrieked and whipped around, catching him across the head with his back leg.

"Trowa!" a feminine voice cried.

Before Ryo could strike again, a petite woman, with long pigtails dove from the thick foliage and charged the creature, trying to drive it away from the downed archer.

"Stay away!" Ryo shouted. "You'll get hurt!"

But she didn't hear him or didn't care. Mistake and woman met in a fury of strikes and counterblows. She managed to block a frenzy of attacks before the Mistake succeeded in impaling her shoulder. The force drove her back, pinning her to a tree. "Heeeeeheeheehee!" A patch of hair twisted into a sharp point and came down.

Fighting back a shudder at the almost human sound of its giggle, Ryo shouted, "I'm coming!" Power pooled into his legs and he dashed forward at inhuman speed. His large sword seemed to trail a ghostly dark blue fire as he brought it down on the monster's body. 

Then he was flying through the air.

'Impossible!' his mind cried. But white-hot pain exploded through his skull as he slammed into a trunk. Air whooshed from his overworked lungs. A sharp ache spidered slowly from between his shoulder blades and his vision blurred. Dark spots swam before his eyes like unremitting flies. He gasped feeling as if his ribs were squeezing every organ in his chest. 

Peering blearily at the battle, he blinked hard when the Mistake's missing limb seemed to reform. A viscous, magenta liquid dripped from the wound and seemed to mold itself into a semblance of a leg.

Ryo shook his head. 

The limb was still forming.

This was impossible! No one had ever heard of a Mistake capable of this kind of regeneration! 

He got up slowly. The faint sounds of battle gradually filtered through the ringing in his ears.

"Trowa! MOVE!"

The large swordsman's voice reverberated through the clearing and as if responding to his call, the wind whipped the branches overhead furiously, showering the group with a fall of leaves. They caressed the archer's bowed head as he cradled the pig-tailed woman tenderly. She did not move.

Unconscious or . . . dead.

"TROWA!'

"Heeeeeheeheeheeheehee!"

The Mistake whipped several sharp twists of hair at the auburn-haired man. He looked up at the oncoming spikes. His face was calm. Without expression.

CLANG!

The Mistake paused in its attack, staring stupidly at the severely dented frying pan as it ricocheted off it and fell to the ground with a dull thud. 

"Eek! I-I hit it!" Jeri clutched Takato's arm, who yelped and tried to twist out of her grasp.

The swordsman wasted no time in striking the creature, drawing its attention away from Trowa and the woman.

"Trowa, move it! Go!" He swung his broadsword again. "Run!"

The green-eyed man gathered his companion close and rushed towards them. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Ryo and his group as he passed them. His quiet words floated back, unnervingly even and calm, "Come with me if you wish to leave."

"Kenta." Ryo tipped his head to indicate that he and Takato and Jeri follow the older man.

"What about you?" Kenta asked.

"It'll beat that swordsman to a fine bloody mess," Ryo flashed a wide grin. "Unless I get to it first."

He ran back to the battle, not bothering to see if they'd all left. Not wanting Kenta to see the brief spike of uncertainty that seeped through. Even when he'd Vibrated, the creature had managed to strike him. How, was he, to defeat it? 

Momentarily, an image of the pig-tailed woman's unmoving and bleeding body appeared in his mind's eye. 

He pressed his mouth into a thin white line. The monster deserved the punishment he was about to receive. 

The Mistake swung its newly formed arm into the swordsman, its chubby face twisting into a snarl. The older man flew, crashing into the brush. From its peripheral vision, a shadowy form leapt at it. Grinning evilly, its cherub face alighting with wicked delight, it jumped. Straight up into the air like a super-powered gymnast.

"Huh?" Ryo grunted. His sword whooshed through empty space as the fine air on the back of his neck rose.

Instinct urged him to drop his heavy sword and bend his legs to spring, pushing him out of the shadow of the onslaught. 

FWIT! FWIT! FWITFWITFWIT!

Strands of hair punctured the ground, creating thousands of small pockmarks. 

WHUMPF!

Ryo rolled to one knee, kicking up dust as the ground shuddered from the impact of the Mistake's landing.

His sword lay gleaming underneath the Mistake's body, urging him to hurry and reclaim it.

"Heeeeeheeheeheehee!" The Mistake's hair shot forward again, a thousand tiny, needle-sharp pinpricks. 

But instead of avoiding the barrage, Ryo remained crouched, his arm outstretched behind him. His hand hung limp, cupping an invisible weapon. His gaze stayed trained on the Mistake, even as his vision quickly filled with the surging points of hair. He breathed steadily. In. Out. In. Out.

Now! 

His eyes blazed like the azure at the heart of a flame. 

"DESOLATION CLAW!" 

His arm swept forward, his hand shaped like a claw. The air before him wavered as energy surged forward, carving a path through the mass of hair. Ghostly blue smoke trailed the blistering path of the attack and the acrid smell of ash drifted past his nose. 

It slammed into the Mistake. 

"AHHHH!" The Mistake reared on its hind legs as the force of the strike drove its head back.

Ryo dashed forward. He reached down. And grinned in triumph as his hand found the reassuring weight of his sword hilt. Once in his hands again, he sliced upwards, driving the great blade into the underbelly of the Mistake, not pausing even as it screamed in pain. A sound so eerily similar to that of a dying chick.

He leapt back out of range and waited for the Mistake to right itself before attacking again. 

"Impossible," he breathed. 

The wound on the Mistake's dark, slim belly was already filling up with the red goo and the furthest edges of the wound had already darkened to a deep red, almost matching the tone of the surrounding skin.

"So what am I supposed to do?" Ryo muttered. 

As the cut healed, the Mistake glanced down at it then back up at the Echo brunette. Although sweat poured down its face and it pulled breath laboriously to its lungs, it managed to smile maliciously at Ryo.

Ryo tightened his grip on the sword and brought it up into an offensive stance. "Guess I'll have to follow Princess' example and chop off your head, huh?"

He shot forward. Faster than a heartbeat. A blue blur.

But not fast enough.

The Mistake's long arms shot out behind him and grabbed his neck and torso. It squeezed his shoulders, causing his arms to go slack. 

He choked and struggled vainly to escape from its grasp. Dark spots dotted his vision as his lungs began to burn and he squeezed his fists futilely.

"Heeeeeheeehe—aghk!" 

The squeezing stopped.

"Aghk?!"

The hands loosened.

"Aagh! Aagh! Ahh!"

The merciless ground caught Ryo and he groaned, blinking away the bright spots of color. Hard fingers dug into his shoulders and he resisted weakly before realizing that they were dragging him away from the Mistake. He sagged, too oxygen-deprived to force his muscles to move.

"What is it doing?" The gruff voice of the swordsman rumbled comfortingly down to Ryo, who shook his head weakly. What was what doing?

"Aagh! Aagh! Ahhhhh!" 

Ryo glanced at the Mistake. It was writhing and twitching uncontrollably. Its tiny black eyes rolled in their sockets as it clawed at its chest. The strange red mucous had dried up becoming a hard rusty color. It flaked at the Mistake's frantic scrabbling and more red goo oozed out. 

Ryo cocked his head. Shook his head and cocked it again. 

The swordsman flicked burgundy eyes down at him. "You hear it too, boy?"

Ryo nodded. "It is like a . . . hissing."

"Yeah and it is coming from that thing."

Soon enough, the Mistake collapsed, its cries keening like a puppy that had been abandoned. Ryo had to suppress the shudders that ran up his spine as if an unseen hand brushed continuously up and down his back. 

The hissing became louder and wisps of smoke wafted off boiling wounds that appeared suddenly all over the skin of the dying creature. They popped audibly, secreting some more gelatinous red substance. This quickly ate at the surrounding flesh, glopping and causing more steam to rise. 

This drifted towards the two bringing with it the scent of burning flesh. Ryo swallowed repeatedly, tasting bile in the back of his throat. But he kept his gaze steady on the dying Mistake. Somehow, he could only feel pity for the creature as its body shriveled up into a dry husk. 

Whatever had happened, it was a miserable way to go.

  
  
  


". . . Alone. . . . Always . . . alone . . . My fate . . . Where . . . ."

A figure huddled in what seemed like a large bubble. The walls shimmered with an iridescence born of no conceivable light source and cast no shadow. 

The figure hugged her legs closer, long brown hair spilling over her narrow shoulders. She continued to whisper, "Where . . . is everyone . . . ? Have they all . . . left? Where . . . ? Left . . . me . . . alone? . . . Why . . . ?"

"Yesss," a disembodied voice hissed. "They left you. They abandoned you. No one wanted you." It seemed to whisk around the bubble like a gentle wind before settling gently upon the figure's head.

". . . But . . . they said . . ."

"Lies! If they wanted you, why haven't they returned for you? To them, you were a nuisance! A pest! A fly! You thought they liked you, even _loved _you! But they didn't! This is their _love! _Can you trust them?! Can you go back to them now?!"

She trembled, silent. The words were true. They were true and yet . . . and yet there was something wrong. No. There was a truth. But her mind was swirling so much. Lights and colors. People and words. Tears and brave smiles. What was the truth? 

If she could squeeze her eyes tight enough . . . if she could cover her ears . . . if the blankness of her mind would open up . . . but nothing could be trusted. Images of smiling people blending into pastel colored light that gradually faded out, leaving her more alone than ever. So, better not to think of them. But then that left dreams of untouchable memories and tangible illusions. Nothing was real anymore. And she floated. In a world; a bliss; a prison of her own mind. 

"No . . . faith. . . ."

"Yesss. No faith. No one can be trusted. Hahaha!"

Nothing constant but her distorted reality and the taunting presence outside the sphere. 

For an eternity, this was all she could remember. So that meant everything else was an illusion, right? This was her reality, right? Always alone, right? 

But . . . 

"But . . ."

Everyone . . . 

"Everyone . . ."

There were people . . .

". . . Before . . ."

How could she be alone? They said they'd always be with her. . . .

"Always . . ."

Where were they?

". . . Where . . . .?"

A face.

". . . Who . . ."

Warm burgundy eyes.

". . . Who are . . ."

The edges of the face remained blurred. But the eyes . . . they were so familiar.

"Who are you . . . ?"

"I am you. Heeheeheehee." A second figure appeared suddenly. As if she'd always been there. Her skintight body suit molded to her slight curves and vibrant, almost magenta colored hair barely brushed her shoulders. Her face, still round with baby fat, radiated a frozen expression that was better suited to an adult who had lived through and committed atrocious acts that could never be forgiven.

The nameless face and kind brown eyes dissipated immediately. Nothing but a dream. An illusion. A nonexistent past. 

Blankness and she was alone again. "Alone. . . . Always. . . ."

"Yesss," the second girl said. "You and I. Our destiny. This is our fate. Hm?" She paused and tilted her head as if listening for something in this soundless place where not even their voices echoed. "A part of me has disappeared. . . ."

". . . My fate . . . Always . . . alone. . . ."

Her golden eyes darted down to the small figure and for a moment something soft glimmered. Something that was quickly squelched like an insistent fly. "We are both alone. Forever and always. Because . . ."

". . . My destiny . . . Where is . . . Why . . . am I . . . alone. . . ?"

Her face was a cool mask. "Because this is my directive. No other options are viable."

". . . Why . . . ?"

  
  
  


After a few minutes of running, the dark and faded forest had gradually thinned out and gave way to rocky ground. In the distance, triangles of mountains poked through the clouds and evenly met his astonished stare. He and his master had traversed those mountains as they'd traveled to Inepril. They'd lost sight of the range, weeks ago. 

The land also sloped downward slightly, which Henry had found strange because the path he and the others had traversed when tracking the Mistake, had been relatively flat. The colors were also more vibrant. Almost too bright.

The stones underneath and the scrabby grass, along with the occasional pine tree, almost seemed to pulse with a vibrancy that was more suited to a forest. Like the one they'd left behind.

"Where are we?" The girl in his arms opened her eyes and lifted her head half-heartedly. She swept the passing scenery with lavender eyes then said, "I don't recognize this place. Where have you taken us?"

[I do not know.] He stared at her intently. Maybe he'd only imagined that she could hear him. 

She frowned. "Don't tell me you don't know how to get out?" 

[No.]

"Great. An incompetent fool," she muttered, closing her eyes and laying her head back down on his shoulder.

Henry ignored the insult, too fascinated with her ability to hear what he was "saying" to her. This had never happened before. As long as he could remember, he'd never been able to respond vocally or communicate with words to anyone. The healer in his village had been perplexed with his inability to talk and his mother had blamed herself, believing she'd done something horrible in a previous life or harming him before his birth. 

He could remember once walking back home from a session with Master Long. He'd cut back through the alley behind the healer's shop to reach the main street. The evening had been freezing; although, strangely enough, his skin had felt as if it was on fire. His chest had felt constricted and he'd used the wall to support his weight as he labored to reach the street. Once there, he knew that _someone _would surely help him. But as chills wracked his small frame, he'd finally collapsed. He'd awaken much later to feel a cool clothe on his forehead. And his mother's wonderful and gentle eyes peering down at him worriedly. 

As soon as his eyes had opened, relief had flooded her face and she'd smiled. Then her expression broke and tears welled up in her almond-shaped eyes as she cupped his face tenderly. 

"Oh, Henry." she'd whispered. "My strong, silent son. The Heavens should have punished me." 

Two crystal droplets splashed against his cheeks like hot brands and he could only wonder why his mother was crying. Why was his beautiful mother crying?

He'd later found out that he'd been passed out for hours. Five feet away from the street. Where anyone would have heard him if he'd been able to call out. 

_You are the first to have responded. _

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her so, but one look at the dark bruises underneath her eyes and he stalled the words.

Her face was pretty. Not so much beautiful as striking. There was a strong sense of character evident in her small pointed chin, which jutted out slightly, almost belligerently. One brow arched gracefully into a mottled bruise, which continued back to her hairline. Dirt smudged her pale skin and a streak swept along her cheekbone like rouge, where her dark lashes brushed against her smooth cheeks with an artist's masterful touch. Her lips were pressed together slightly, the only sign of her displeasure in having to rely on him to carry her, and occasionally they would twitch as a stray curl of strawberry blond hair caressed them. 

Without opening her eyes, she asked crossly, "What are you looking at?"

[You.]

She opened stunning violet eyes and glared at him weakly. "Stop staring."

[Why?]

Some flowing tendrils escaped her tight ponytail and fluttered coquettishly just underneath his chin. It was surprisingly soft for such a hard-eyed girl.

"Because it's perverted."

[Why is it perverted? I am not doing anything else.]

She snorted, closing her eyes again. "Well, it's rude."

[True.]

His eyes traced the straight line of her nose, which had wrinkled cutely.

"You're still staring."

[Yes.]

"I thought I told you to stop," she growled. 

He shrugged and turned his gaze to the hard ground before him. 

He had a strong jaw. Rika could imagine her grandmother's satisfied voice as she said that statement. Rika would have to grudgingly agree. Not that the boy had that many good points. For one, he was a pervert. Well, he hadn't _done _anything extremely lecherous, but he was a boy, wasn't he? And if he wasn't a lech, he was definitely a player of some sort.

Yes, definitely a player, Rika decided as she peered up at him through her lashes. Look at those eyes! She'd never seen anyone with such stormy grey eyes. They were a pure color. Not hazel or speckled.. A clear silver hue. She'd bet five gold coins, he'd used them frequently to charm the mindless twits of his village. 

[Miss?]

She frowned. Why was he calling her that? She wasn't some delicate waif who couldn't even walk under her own power. Pause. Admittedly she was allowing him to carry her, but it wasn't as if she had a choice!

[Miss?]

"Stop calling me that!" 

There was a moment of silence. She could feel a faint sense of surprise on his part, before he said, [What shall I call you?]

". . . Nonaka . . . Rika." Now, that she had time to think about it, she realized she knew absolutely nothing about this boy. Not even his name! He could be worse than a pervert! He could take advantage of her weakened state.

[– is Wong Henry.]

Rika tensed, barely stopping her shallow breathing as her heart leapt in fright. But her muscles would not cooperate. Her arms remained limp and she felt like her head had been stuffed with cotton weighted down with lead beads.

[Is something wrong?] Henry's brow creased in concern. He could hear her shaky pants although she was obviously trying to hide it and had felt her muscles shift slightly. Was this the backlash Takato was talking about?

"Nothing!" she snapped. "Shouldn't you be paying attention to where you are going?"

Henry raised one brow. [But I do not know where we are going.]

Her brows twitched, almost as if she was trying to frown, but could not summon the energy to do so. "I'll have to Vibrate us back to the Kami-Tune. We're far enough away."

[Kami-Tune?] Oh. She must have meant the world they normally inhabited. That was a good idea. There may be more of those creatures. He hid a shiver. The thing had been so . . . unnervingly _human-like_. 

"You don't know about the Tunes?" she snapped. But although the bite was there, it was softened by the low slur that had suddenly entered her voice.

He nudged her head with his shoulder. Her eyebrow twitched and she stifled a yawn.

[I suggest you . . . Vibrate? . . . return us to the Kami-Tune now.]

She lifted her hand and waved lazily, knocking his shoulder. "We're too far from Inepril," she mumbled, "there're no mountains near there."

He shook her head again. [Wake up.]

"I am," she slurred.

He jiggled his shoulder, rocking her head again. [Miss, we need to return to the Kami-Tune.] 

"Fine," she sighed, opening her wide lavender eyes.

[Should we wait for the others?]

"No. They know how to return. We don't have time to wait."

[What if . . . they could not defeat that creature?]

Her answer was prompt. "Then I am very unfortunate because I'll have to return to finish that Mistake off."

[What about your friends?] Henry winced at his acerbic tone.

"What about _your_ friends?" she countered.

[I hardly know them. We have only just met, but . . . I do not wish that they be harmed.] He peered at her expressionless face, wondering what she was thinking now.

She wished he would stop staring at her. She knew Ryo. Knew he would go all heroic and besides, the brief glimpse she'd gotten of the swordsman, had been favorable. From her position across the clearing, she'd clearly seen the occasional dent in his mail and the corded muscles in his wrists as he'd expertly handled his broadsword. 

Now, she hoped Ryo wouldn't be so caught up in his justice reel that he didn't forget why they'd originally Vibrated. If he didn't get those two back safely, _she_ would have to share the consequence of that as well.

"I don't want you stumbling around like a blind bat, so close your eyes."

Without waiting for his reply Rika called upon a power imbedded so deeply within herself, she wouldn't be able to live without it. A familiar tingle swept across her skin and she felt Henry shudder against her.

Then it stopped. 

And she was falling.

[Nonaka?]

Falling.

[Nonaka?] 

Falling.

[. . . Rika?]

Into misty grey eyes and strong warm arms.

  
  


A/N: As always, comments and criticisms are greatly appreciated! Thanks!


	5. Chapter Four

Henrika: Thanks!

  


littleweirdwriter: Well, the anime references gives you a hint to just how much time I have on my hands. (Sigh.) So why can't I ever finish my homework?

  


MoonlightNIV: Like the almost-romantic ending? I hope to get more out soon!

  


blue-eyes: Oh. My. Gawd! Another reviewer?! (Starts giggling inanely.) Seriously, thank you very much for stopping by and reviewing. The other thirteen (technically twelve) were all submitted by the wonderful people I've listed above. Yes. Only three other people have read my story thus far. (Or reviewed it, at least.) I don't know if it's the coupling or if my writing doesn't appeal to them, but other people don't seem interested. (Or maybe I just suck, period.)

  


Disclaimer (Ha-HA! I remembered this time!): I own everything in this story. And bigfoot is a type of cheese. 

Don't sue me.

  


Resonators

By squishybookworm

  


The Taikoubou river began as a lush delta at the Clow empire's most northeastern tip and wended its way down the kingdom, sending many offshoots of itself to bring cool relief to the southern lands. It continued in a southwesternly course, its huge roar tamed only by the Ryuzaki mountains before flowing sedately past the empire's borders into the Duchy of Raleigh. There it seeped into the Woglinde Marshes, stagnant. 

Any who dared to travel through the miles upon miles of bogland was invariably never heard from again. Its waters were poison, collecting the waste and bitterness dumped into the Taikoubou river. The trees were as likely to shower an unsuspecting victim with disease-ridden insects and deadly snakes as it was to shelter him, and if all that failed to kill the person, noxious fumes rising from the ground clogged his brain and eventually drove him mad. 

Currently, it was the single greatest aggravation in the Duke of Raleigh's great campaign. He scowled at the red-haired girl, and his recently adopted daughter, before him and amended that thought.

"Ruri," he barked, "do you choose not to understand what I am trying to say?"

Not a single auburn eyelash flickered as she continued to stare at him with striated golden eyes.

"More than three-quarters of my men, if not all of them, will die before we reach the border! The Clow will laugh at me like I'm a fool when I demand they surrender. I _will _not be mocked! Do you hear me?! SO ANSWER ME WHEN I SPEAK TO YOU!"

All around the large, rectangular table, generals who'd survived countless battles and jaded advisors who'd plotted hundreds of intrigues and assassinations, jumped fearfully as he roared. But Ruri remained still, her eerie gaze steady.

Shioda Hirokazu, great Duke of Raleigh, was not a large man. In fact, his lanky build did not make him a very intimidating figure at all and people often wondered how such a booming voice could reverberate from such a seemingly skinny man. His long brown hair was pulled back from his face in a loose ponytail that trailed a down his back in a glossy mane. A few long curls streamed down his temples, under the slim, bejeweled circlet, and briefly caressed his high cheekbones before continuing on to tickle his collarbone. 

He curtly brushed those away and impatiently undid another gold button to allow more skin to be kissed by a barely stirring wind in the stuffy room. 

A bearded councilman spoke up tentatively, "My liege? Your reasoning is sound. To take four thousand men through the Woglinde Marshes is pure suicide and even if a fraction should survive, they would not be strong enough to withstand any counter attack the Clow would send against them. What we are doing will be . . . very risky. We must reconsider this."

"Think you, Councilman Roddard?" Hirokazu's glare melted into a sharp smile, which made the recepient squirm, suddenly feeling like a sheep about to be slaughtered. "And why do you say this?"

Roddard cleared his throat, a fine sheen of sweat reflecting off the sunlight streaming through the high windows of the room. He swept a trembling hand past the bald plate on his head and through what was left of his long, curling, grey-brown hair. "W-well, s-sir. If we can capture the Ryuzaki Mountains and the forges of Cephiro there, we would have a very decisive victory, but any attempt to seize that area will be met with failure."

Hirokazu rested his head against his hand lazily and regarded the councilman with a hooded gaze. "Do go on, Mr. Roddard. You sound so sure of the Clow's victory. Do explain your reasoning."

"To capture the Ryuzaki mountains, the Raleighan army would have to bypass the Woglinde Marshes and half of the Ryzaki mountains, almost go into Inepril, then cross the Taikoubou river, before attacking Cephiro. That would take weeks and supply lines would become strained. Not to mention the resistance they would meet along the way when the Clow hears of movement along their border. To cut through the marshes and follow the Taikoubou river as . . . the young lady proposes will surely cut the time and more importantly, surprise the Clow, but as you have just said, sir, more than three-quarters will die before they reach the border. The remaining men will not be able to defeat the City of Cephiro, much less hold it long enough for reinforcements."

BAM!

Hirokazu's palms connected solidly with the heavy table. "ARE YOU TELLING ME MY MEN ARE WEAK?!"

"No! No, of course not, my lord," Roddard rushed to placate. "I am merely saying that a campaign to capture Cephiro may not be feasible."

"Ah," Hirokazu said, suddenly calm. "Of course, you are right. And there you have it, Ruri. Roddard says it will not be feasible."

Roddard nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes, my liege. I'll even venture to say it is madness. A sure path to disaster!"

"He says it is madness, Ruri. A sure path to disaster. His reasoning is very sound, so he must be right. Think you he is right, Ruri?"

When she did not respond, Roddard shot her a barely concealed look of triumph. 

"Only a fool would consider this campaign, my lord, " he hastened to add, before another councilmember could steal his momentum. Already, some of the younger ones were giving him venomous glares.

Hirokazu smiled lazily. "Am I a fool, then?"

Roddard's smile faltered. "P-pardon, my liege?"

"I placed the matter before the council myself, did I not?"

"Uh, ye-yes, sir."

"Meaning I've been considering this, have I not?"

"Y-yes. I suppose so." Roddard swallowed, trying to moisten a suddenly dry throat.

"I know that this is a discord that reaches farther than my founding father. The Clow have always reaped the riches of the land while we . . ." Hirokazu sneered. "Well, we were left the Woglinde Marshes, is that not right, Roddard?"

"Yes, sir."

"Simply the Ryuzaki Mountains. That had been all my fathers before me had ever wanted . . . had ever deserved. What is it the Clow say?" The Duke paused, planting a forefinger along his cheek. "Ah, yes. Ying and yang. One can not exist with out the other. Misery and happiness.

Bullshit!" he spat. "If their high and mighty asses could come up with that crap, why couldn't they give us Cephiro?!"

The long-haired Duke roared, "WELL, WE DESERVE OUR DUE!"

He leapt to his feet, spittle flying from his full lips as he shouted. "AND I'LL BE DAMNED IF I'LL WAIT ANOTHER MINUTE! ANOTHER YEAR! ANOTHER _GENERATION_, BEFORE I'VE RECEIVED MY REWARD FOR THE SUFFERANCE OF MY WHOLE BLOODY FAMILY LINE!"

Everyone fixated their eyes not on their panting and furious lord, but the councilman who had incited the rage.

The balding man licked his lips and flicked his eyes furtively around the table. A rat sitting among cats. "M-my lord, I . . . I was mistaken. Why should the Clow not tremble in fear when they hear the war call of Raleigh? I should not have underestimated the might of our great kingdom. Yes. Our suffering shall be the tidal wave on which we shall ride to sweep that pathetic land!"

A pall of silence fell over the room. The slight breeze stilled and sank to the ground like a puppy at heel. Sunlight caught and tangled in the profusion of jewels and rich clothing, creating a scintillating display of rainbows. Sweat glimmered visibly on pale faces and no one moved to wipe it off with scented handkerchiefs.

Finally Hirokazu sat down slowly then spoke. "Mr. Roddard. Let me tell you a story." He steepled his fingers as if about to fall deep into thought. "Once upon a time there lived two men. Both were farmers who'd lived next to each other for all of their lives. One year, the crops of one of the farmers suddenly contracted a strange disease and he lost everything. But, you see, this farmer was very cunning. He knew his neighbor was a simpleton and so one night, stole out to the fields and moved the crops from his neighbor's garden to his own. The next day the second farmer came to him, crying and the first farmer felt so sorry for him that, that night, he returned the stolen crop. Do you know what happened then, Mr. Roddard?"

Roddard swallowed, lips trembling, "M-maybe. . . . the second f-farmer helped him out, sir. . . ?"

"No. When winter came, having no food, the first farmer died and the second was such a nitwit, he didn't notice a thing. Mr. Roddard, the only thing I find more detestable than a fool is a coward." 

He made no movement, but the room suddenly exploded into action. Everyone leapt to their feet as black tentacles erupted out of thin air behind the ill-fated Roddard and he screamed. They wrapped around his body, constricting his airway as one found its way around his throat. Those closest to him backed away swiftly, horror written plainly on their faces. 

"No!" he choked. His wide blue eyes darted around, pleading with someone to help. But the others quickly averted their gazes and those that didn't watched him with fascinated terror, muscles paralyzed. 

"Please." He found his Duke's seated form and reached towards him with clawed hands. "Please." 

But the impassive man did not even glance at him. He sat calmly, staring at nothing, as if finding his own thoughts more interesting. 

Someone shifted. The only movement in the still room and Roddard found himself staring at striated golden eyes. Ruri's lips moved. And a whisper came to him. As if she stood right next him and not clear across the room. Then she finished and smiled.

"No!" Roddard scrabbled frantically at the tentacle around his throat. "No! Please . . . no!"

But they pulled inexorably. And Roddard disappeared gradually. First his gaping, fish-like expression. Then his torso. Then his legs.

Everyone stared at the spot where the councilman had sat. No one dared to breathe. No one dared to move. Even the dust motes dancing in the sun's beams stilled. 

"Well, Ruri?" Hirokazu asked. No inflection in his voice indicated that anything had happened and it was just another meeting like hundreds before. "What say you to the problem of the Woglinde Marshes?"

"Gather your men, my Duke, " she replied, "and I will give you . . . a miracle."

  
  


_Rain pattered gently against the sloping roof and slid off with a reassuring sweep to the overhang. It tinkled marvelously. Like the gay chime of bells that accompanied the gypsies when they came through the village below. Through the open _shoji _door, Rika could see the clear streamers of water fall off the roof like shimmering ribbons. _

_ She laid on the ground with her head pillowed on her mother's lap. The older woman worked diligently on an embroidery as Rika stared out the door. _

_ "Okaa?" Rika finally asked._

_ "Yes, Rika-chan?" The lavender-eyed woman did not pause in her ministrations as the flame-haired child in her lap shifted to look up at her._

_ "Why are you doing that? We are women after all."_

_ Her _okaasan _stopped to smile down at eyes the shade of her own. The white scar that ran from her left temple across her lips to end at her chin, puckered with the movement. Rika reached up to trace it familiarly._

_ "Yes. I am a woman. That is why I must do this."_

_ Rika frowned. "What do you mean?" She followed the ridged flesh with her chubby fingers, letting her _okaasan's _hot breath warm the tips. She'd always loved this particular mark. It had been the first kiss of battle her mother had received, and she'd returned triumphant whereas many of her comrades had not. Rika could not help but swell with pride, each time she saw it. Her mother was the strongest woman in the world._

_ "Okaa has something to confess."_

_ Long slender fingers closed over her small hand and pulled it away. Her _okaasan _slowly stood, giving Rika time to clamber to her own feet._

_ "Okaa?" Rika looked up at her _okaasan's _beautifully pale face. As white as white plum blossoms._

_ "Okaa will no longer be your okaasan."_

_ "Okaa!" Rika scolded. "Don't be mean!"_

_ "I am not being mean, Rika-san."_

_ Rika . . . _san?

_"I love him more." The older woman stared off over Rika's head, her lilac-colored eyes soft. "I can only love him."_

_ Rika spun around. A man stood a few feet away. Heavy brows lowered over his dark blue eyes, and he smiled through his neatly trimmed beard. His dark brown hair spiked messily, giving him a handsome roguish look, like a pirate of the Southern Isles. _

_ Her _okaasan _approached him then tenderly embraced him before turning back to her daughter. "You understand, don't you?"_

_ With a start, Rika suddenly realized the room had disappeared, leaving a landscape of darkness behind. "Okaa? Stop lying. Stop being mean!"_

_ "Rika-san." She smiled as she and the man faded away like ghosts. "Someday, you'll understand."_

_ "NO! No! I don't want to understand!" Rika leapt towards the dissipating couple. "I promise I'll be good! I'll be a warrior! Just like you! So don't leave me! Don't leave me!"_

_ Her hands passed through them. Her lavender eyes widened in realization. Then she fell. Blackness rushed up to meet her, but in the land of darkness, that meant nothing, so she floated there. Weightless. _

_ A warmth touched her forehead. Steadily, it spread all through her body and the comforting smell of rain came to her._

_ "Okaa," she whispered. "I'll become the strongest woman in the world! And then you'll be proud of me. You'll love me."_

  
  
  


Henry pulled his hand back, brows lifting curiously. Strongest woman in the world, huh?

Rika was draped over his back, unconscious. When she began mumbling, he'd reached up to touch her forehead with the back of his hand; something his mother had often done to him when he was feverish. But she was cool and he had to resist the urge to press his hot cheeks against her cooler ones. She probably wouldn't appreciate him rubbing his sweat all over her.

He sighed, wishing he'd taken the time to take off his outer robe. His thick mandarin shirt would have been more than enough to keep the rapidly disappearing chill at bay. The noon sun reflected off the white stones underfoot, creating a brilliant blankness that hurt his eyes unless he blinked rapidly. In the distance, snow-capped mountains rose out of the ground, towering crowns of the earth, and a glittering ribbon of water wended its way from the foot of those mountains to some point below the slope he and the flame-haired Echo were descending. 

He had an idea of where they might be. The few scraggly trees and scruffy grass he'd spotted, were clearly indigenous to the north, but where exactly in the north, he did not know. He'd only ever traveled once and that had been with his master after his family had died. And he'd been too distraught to notice anything for weeks afterwards.

They'd traveled to the city of Po Chi Lam and had remained there until the summons of a council he'd never heard about. Thus began his second traveling experience. But this time, he and his master had used public roads.

Henry shifted his passenger's weight carefully then went back to scrutinizing the pebbled ground for loose footing. How was his master? How were the others? After Rika had Vibrated, she'd fainted, leaving Henry to seek aid on his own, and he been carrying her all day, trying to reach a dull roar, which he recognized as a river. He sincerely hoped Master Long would not worry overly much. He was still spry, but was getting on in years. Lately, he'd even begun to complain about a chill that never seemed to go away. Henry wanted to finish this journey quickly and return home with his master to their modest home in Po Chi Lam. How were the neighbors getting along? Was Fei Fong doing well, handling their apothecary? Did the children miss him?

A grumble sounded from low in his stomach, reminding him he hadn't eaten since the evening before. He also felt as if someone had stuffed linen into his mouth and squeezed a rag of sweetened mint water over his head then dusted him from head to toe. How did Rika manage to stay so cool? He turned his head slightly to regard the sleeping face. How did she manage to stay so pale for that matter? Her skin was like the white petals of the orchid blossom they used to perfume some of their herbs even through the dust that brushed a fine layer of freckles across her features and the mottled bruise along her temple.

Henry stopped. The roar of the river, which had been gradually getting louder now carried an undertone like water running over rocks. Henry gripped his unconscious companion more firmly then rushed forward. He crested a slight rise of blank rocks and his eyes widened.

The river was huge! It rushed, shining like a broadsword and just as straight, as if power was the only thing it understood. He could just make out the boulders that lined the other shore, identical to the one he stood on now. To the river, the large stones were little more than pebbles to be tossed aside as it swiftly flowed along its course, throwing up angry froths of spray when a stubborn rock dared to block it. 

Henry carefully propped Rika up against a gray boulder and ran to the water's edge. The rapid current swept over the stones, polishing them smooth. Sunlight dappled the slightly slower eddies near his perch, causing the wavering image of the bottom's sandy contents to flicker. He cupped one hand and took a careful sip. Running it over his tongue slowly, he nodded. No salt that he could taste. And it was flowing rapidly enough, he supposed, to wash out any other impurities.

After slaking his thirst, he shrugged off his outer robe and found the cleanest portion to dip into the clear water. This, he deftly carried back to the sleeping Echo. 

[Nonaka?] Shaking her gently, he called again, [Nonaka?]

When she didn't answer, he gently pried her mouth open and squeezed a few drops. She swallowed. Henry's shoulders relaxed in relief. He repeated the process until the cloth was only damp. But Rika did not awaken at all.

Henry frowned. He knew what herbs to use for a child's fever or a festering wound, but mystical and spiritual injuries were beyond his scope. Takato had called it a backlash, so he could only assume that meant Rika had overextended her abilities and would need rest to recover. But he could not take that chance. He had to find someone who knew more about the strange Vibrate skill. Make sure that Rika would eventually wake up.

He slung her across his back again, like the piggy-back rides he'd often give to the neighbor's children, then followed the river's course. Towards the mountains.

Before long, rocky ground gave way to grassy plains that painted the landscape with shades of green, and the mountains that had seemed so far earlier, loomed before him like dark sentinels guarding a secret vault. But even more encouraging was the sight of an even, wide dirt road.

Henry eagerly clambered onto the road, tired of constantly tripping on loose pebbles and unseen dips in the ground. The sun was a ball of angry scarlet-orange and they'd entered a small fringe of forest that had fingered down from the rising lands around them a while ago. 

He first felt an uneasy prickling and hastened his pace, but lack of food and exhausted from the heat of the day, he could only manage it for so long. Rustles in the shadowed brush and faint footsteps that dodged his, made him tense with each passing breath, misty-grey eyes alert. 

As the orange-red orb disappeared from the tops of the trees, the foliage exploded around him, and several men with wooden clubs or knives surrounded him, smirking.

"What's this, men?" a man with long, tangled blond hair said. "A couple of children out past their bedtime? What shall we do?"

The others laughed coarsely as if it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard. Ignoring the pounding of his heart and the faint tremor in his hands, Henry carefully set Rika down on the ground and pulled her _katana_ from his waistband to place it next to her. 

"Hm? A girl? And she's sleeping? Oohhh, so a lover's tryst, boy? Maybe she'll want a real man, do you think?" The blonde leered, showing several gaps in his teeth. "If you're done with her, we'll take her as payment for your life. What do you say, boy?"

Henry stood, gripping his _darn jian_ tightly. What could he do? He couldn't run fast enough with Rika. He would be severely hampered in fighting them off when more than likely she could be injured. What could he do?

"I'm _talking _to you, boy!"

"Boss! Hey, boss!" A skinny fellow with a high screeching voice pointed to the unconscious Echo. "Look! She's an Aav!"

"An Aav?!" The boss broke into loud guffaws, making Henry shift uneasily. 

The Aav and Clow were not on the friendliest of terms because of their respective different matriarchal and patriarchal societies. It was hard dealing with a woman in matters of business or politics when one was used to meek submissiveness from the fairer sex.

"Haha! I've always wanted to knock one up!"

"Yeah! Especially between her cheeks and I don't mean her mouth either!"

"Harharharhar! See how tight they really are, you mean!"

"Hawhawhawhawhaw!"

Henry pulled in, hovering over Rika's still form. Should he kill her? Slice her neck cleanly and she wouldn't feel any pain? Wouldn't feel any of the shame of the most atrocious act a man could inflict on a woman. If she was as much the warrior as the Aav were rumored to be, she would have taken down as many of the men as she could and if captured, would stab herself or bite her own tongue to bleed to death. Henry swallowed, trying to force the lump in his throat to disappear. Trying not to let the frantic pounding of his heart overwhelm him.

The white column of her throat shone up at him like the moon. But he was not an Aav. He could not . . . would not. . . .

She would never forgive him for this.

"We'll really let you go, boy! After all, you brought us an Aav! Hahahaha!" The blonde boss stepped to the side and his men followed suit, clearing a path for the mute, storm-eyed boy.

Feeling like a butterfly was flapping incessantly in his throat, Henry started forward. Not glancing at the unconscious body behind him.

"Smart choice, boy. You'll live a long life."

He heard movement behind him as the others rushed to the girl's form, like vultures after carrion.

"Oooh, she's a real beaut, boss."

"Hmm, good jugs. Haha!"

"Don't get started without me, fools!"

As the men's attention quickly gathered on their prize, Henry crouched suddenly then pushed off. One leg swung out to plow into the blonde's stomach as he buried his sheathed sword into another bandit's face. From there he was a dervish of movements and silent strikes. Distracted by the sounds of battle, the men quickly moved from Rika to join their comrades in defeating this foe.

The silver of Henry's blade caught the last crimson rays of the sun, hiding for brief moments the smears of blood. He blurred through the crowd like a deadly dancer. His _darn jian _slashing viciously across a man's torso like a snake's bite and causing the bandit to scream. The sound of cracking bones reverberated through the cacophony of curses, and another howled as Henry's kick landed with painful accuracy onto his nose. One dropped his weapon as soon as he saw the fury blazing the youth's storm-grey eyes almost as silver as the deadly sword. That was the last thing he saw.

Yet the events of the day took its toll. One slip here and a bandit clipped Henry's jaw with a powerful hook. Too slow there and another nicked his shoulder with a knife. 

Henry swung his leg in a wide arc towards the blonde leader. The bandit grinned and Henry tightened his leg muscles, trying to halt the progress. But too late as the leader spun once, letting the kick fly behind him. Used the momentum of the spin to drive his elbow into Henry's stomach.

His storm-grey eyes dark with strain, Henry dropped his sword and hugged his stomach. The elbow jab connected painfully with a sickening crunch. He flew from the force of the blow, globules of sweat flicked off his blue-black hair, his body bent almost double, but at the last moment, he tucked his feet beneath him and landed in a crouch. He looked up, panting harshly, blood rapidly soaking his dirtied and ripped mandarin shirt. The ties on leg had unraveled and a vertical tear up the other trouser leg showed a shallow gash.

Five still stood, while four bandits' bodies littered the road. Only one was breathing.

Tremors shook his body and unwillingly Henry's head dropped. He stared at the criss-cross of scarlet blood along his palms.

_"Hen . . . ry. . . ."_

_ A monster stood before him, its large mouth stretched across its pasty face in a grotesque grin. Hanks of dirty blonde hair struggled to cling to its head in several places. Red eyes glared at him malevolently. Its long, thin arms dangled to the ground even as it stood upright._

_ Ashes floated to the sky as if to become stars in the velvet skies above. He tasted copper on his tongue and a wet warmth in his hands. He looked down. A delicate, golden hand covered his smaller ones. Blood running thin rivulets over both._

_ He shuddered. Curled into a small ball as a pressure built up in him. Something was pressing against his throat. Where his voice should have been._

"Look at him! He's shivering like a lamb! He's scared! Scared, I tell you!" "Huh. That's not gonna help you, now." The bandit leader spat a mixture of spittle and blood. "You should've taken your chance when you had it, punk!"

[NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!]

Henry clutched his ears and the bandits jerked uneasily as if they'd heard the speechless cry. Silence fell. Nothing but the navy-haired boy's harsh breathing prevailed. A squirrel froze in its track, beady eyes trained on the crouched youth. A cricket stilled its legs, search for a mate usurped by another elemental force. A leaf shivered in the wind then broke off. It fell, swinging lazily. Then touched the ground.

Henry's head snapped up.

Silver eyes, pure as the inlay on his _darn jian, _glared at them.

  
  
  


A/N: Okay, maybe not the best spot to end the chapter, but I've noticed that I've had nothing but battles. I mean . . . three separate battles in _one day?! _Geez, if the characters were actors they'd be whacking me repeatedly for making them go through all that! 

Anyways, I want to get into a little character development, so action sequences are gonna be less from this point on. Err, maybe. And maybe concentrate mostly on Henry and Rika. Err, maybe. 

Thanks for reading and please review!


	6. Chapter Five

littleweirdwriter: Thank you very much and I'm glad you understood what I was talking about.  I'm one of those people where, the more I try to explain, the more confusing I get, so I'm glad, really, that you're not confused and I hope it will help if you decide to write any more stories.  (Hint-hint!  Pleeeaaase write again!  Pleeaasse?!  We need more Henrikas!  Hehe.) 

MoonlightNIV: Reading about battles is great, isn't it?  But seeing them is even cooler, don't you think?  (Sigh.)  If I could get a million bucks and the licensing rights to these characters . . . Oh, the horror!  Hehehe.  I did borrow Clow from CCS, and Li Mei Ling, from the animated version of that series, as well.  As the story progresses, you might find many other references to other animes.  Have fun finding them!  (Smile.)

Henrika: Henry as the Battousai?  Hmm, that has definite possibilities.  I wasn't really thinking about Kenshin when I was writing that part, but I could imagine Henry taking on Kenshin's role.  Haha.  Now what about Rika as Kaoru?  Haha.  Maybe not.  But Tomoe, maybe?  Naaah.  Then there would be no Battousai because Rika would have killed him, or attempted to kill him, as soon as she met him, as opposed to getting drunk and passing out at his feet in the rain!  Hehe.

Disclaimer: Yes, yes, yes.  We all know that I do _not _own _all _of the characters in this little story, and I am not making _any_ money off of this, so _please_ don't sue me.  And this disclaimer will apply to all subsequent chapters I will submit.  (Why didn't I think of this sooner?)

**Resonators**

By squishybookworm

_Fire popped, sending a shower of sparks into the night sky and it eddied like a swarm of fireflies.  Heat flowed across his skin, making it feel thin and almost numb.  The roof of a flaming building collapsed with a thunderous BOOM!  A faint mewl sounded from under the inferno, but that was quickly drowned in the crackling and popping of burning wood all around.  Blackened beams clung desperately to maintain the frame of houses, but they inevitably fell, buried under scorching banners of fire._

_            Cries crescendoed twining in and through the thick veil of smoke.  _

_            "Help me!  Oh, God, help me!"_

_            "M-my . . . leg. . . ."_

_            "MOMMY!  MOMMY!  EEEYAAAHH-gkh!"_

_            "I'm bleeding!  I'm . . . bl-bleeding to . . . death. . . .'_

_            "Help . . . me. . . ."_

_            "NO!  Please n-ughk!"_

_            Cries without names.  Screams without faces.  It was both a comfort and a horrible fear that Henry could not identify the voices.  Tears trailed down his cheeks, reflecting the blaze until it seemed that he wept molten gold.  He squeezed storm-grey eyes shut and covered his ears.  However, this only seemed to amplify the desperate wails.  As if their words would fill his silence._

_            "Hen . . . ry . . ."_

_            Something warm and solid caressed his hand.  He found his mother's beautiful brown eyes staring up at him steadily, although they glimmered with unshed tears.  Blood pooled underneath her body, soaking her dark blue robes black and returning the images of fire from its depths. _

_            ". . . My . . . boy . . . run . . . run quick . . . ly . . ."_

_            Her voice became garbled as thick scarlet liquid burbled up from her mouth, spilling down her chin._

_            Thump._

_            Thump._

_            Through the haze of black smoke a shadow appeared.  It approached.  Closer.  And closer.  And Henry waited, grey eyes wide and lips trembling with sobs that could not be uttered._

_            The smog parted._

_A monster stood before him, its large mouth stretched across its pasty face in a grotesque grin.  Hanks of dirty blonde hair struggled to cling to its head in several places.  Red eyes glared at him malevolently.  Its long, thin arms dangled to the ground even as it stood upright._

_Abruptly, it morphed.  Shifting suddenly to become the blonde brigand.  Fire glinting off his gap-toothed leer.  And then it was the Mistake.  And then it wasn't.  And then it was both.  The monster wearing the brigand's madly grinning face._

_A warmth__ rested against his hand and he looked down.  Blood weaved across his palms as if someone had carelessly thrown scarlet skeins of yarn into his small hands.  He followed the dainty hand atop his own, up the arm.  Up to the shoulder.  The neck.  The face.  The eyes. . . .  The eyes . . . . Empty. . . .  They were empty. . . .  Brown husks. . . .  Dried brown husks. . . ._

_He was . . . he was alone.  Alone.  In his silence.  No.  It was . . . it was always like this.  He opened his mouth.  And nothing came.  Nothing.  Just like always.  No one would hear him.  Even if he screamed, nothing would come.  The pressure rose in his chest.  It pressed against his throat.  It choked him.  It tightened.  That spot.  That one spot. . . . Where his voice should be. . . ._

_[NNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOO!]___

_"NO!"  Another voice.  Another voice that echoed his.  That was . . . that was not . . . yet it was . . . his. . . ._

_Storm-grey eyes, silver as the inlay in their ancestral sword, snapped up to glare at the Mistake._

_But the Mistake was not there._

_Instead, he stared at himself._

Henry jerked awake with a silent gasp.  He pulled in huge gulping mouthfuls of air and clutched his chest as if that would slow the rapid pounding of his heart.

"Hey!  He's awake!  Master!  Master Sori, he's awake!"

There was a clatter and a dull thump behind him.  Henry spun around then fell down quickly as he was nearly thrown out of the jouncing cart.  Pain speared through his knees and the shallow gash along his thigh began to bleed again, soaking the snowy white linen bandage.  The loose cuff of his left sleeve pushed up momentarily to expose a swollen, blue-black bruise all along his forearm.  

The cart jolted again and he fell against a wooden crate with a mental yelp of pain. 

"Hey!  Be careful, Liu, you arse!  We've got two injured back here!" the same voice exclaimed.

When the black spots had cleared from his vision, Henry gingerly adjusted his limbs within the cramped space until he sat with his back to the wall.  He gritted his teeth and cradled his elbow as he surveyed his surroundings.

Across from him, lying parallel to the other wall, Rika slept upon a pallet similar to the one he'd been resting on.  Her face in repose was pale and peaceful as if illuminated by the moon and not the red-orange twilight sun.  Henry breathed a sigh of relief when he found her relatively unharmed.

Long shadows pushed to the front of the covered cart.  Crates, stacked by twos and strapped down securely, blocked his view, but the small "aisle" between his and Rika's pallet continued down the wagon to the front.  Henry cautiously peeked around the corner.  Shadowy outlines of more crates, barrels, and what looked to be a few bolts of cloth crammed tidily into every available space.

The motion of a dark silhouette came closer and Henry moved back.  He blinked at the driver of another cart through the open flap of the back of the cart and the driver grinned cheerfully and waved his whip.  The brown and grey workhorses before him trudged stolidly along, heads bobbing and hooves clopping softly against the packed dirt road.  More such muffled clips could be heard and a cloud of dust puffed like a loaf of bread behind that cart.

Where was he?  What had happened?

"Yo!  How're you doin'?"

Henry jerked his startled gaze up to the chirping voice.  It belonged to a boy not much younger than he was.  The sleeveless, black mandarin shirt he wore displayed well-muscled arms that seemed impervious to the slight nip, which had arrived with the setting sun.  This was belted over dark trousers that tied off midway down his naked calves and finished off with straw sandals.  His short brown hair spiked up crazily, although he'd tried to tame it with a wide black and blue-patterned bandanna.  It tucked neatly at his left temple then the fringed end hung freely, flopping against his ears and reminding Henry of a bunny rabbit.  

The rapidly descending sun cast an orange glow along half his face and plunged the other half in shadow.  As a result, his crystalline blue eyes seemed so light it was almost white on one side and glowed eerily from the shadowed portion.

The boy crouched and offered a friendly smile.  "I'm Shioda Kazu.  Nice to meetcha."

Henry nodded in return and gestured to his throat, forming his words mentally like he'd always done before.  [I am pleased to meet you, too.  Unfortunately, I cannot speak.]

"What do you mean?  You sound perfectly fine to me."

[WHAT?!]

Kazu winced.  "You don't haveta shout.  I'm not deaf y'know."

Henry shook his head.  What was going on?  Rika and now this boy?  But he'd always talked to others and they'd never given any indication of ever hearing him.  Did these two have some magic or power he'd never heard about?

[No.  No, Mr. Shioda, I am sorry I shouted.  I did not mean to imply that you were hard of hearing.  I was just surprised.]

"Just call me Kazu and why were you surprised?"

[That you could hear me.]

Kazu shook his head.  "Are you sick or something'?  Your throat hurt?  Master!  Master Sori?!  I think Blueberry's sick!"

[Blueberry?]  Henry blinked then shook his head.  [No.]  He chuckled suddenly.  [No.  Heheh.  I am not sick and my throat does not hurt.]

"Well, it ain't gonna hurt to have Master Sori look at you, yeah?"

"Move aside.  Back off.  Back off now, you scamp!  Making the patient tired, are you?"

Kazu merely grinned at the scolding, yet booming, tone and leapt nimbly to the crates right above Rika's form.  A moment later, a large man rounded the corner.  A long, thick queue fell over one shoulder as he knelt down.  The voluminous folds of his brown and cream robes contrasted sharply with his younger counterpart, and they covered him fully from his neck to his broad, powerful shoulders to his muscular legs.  Two dark and thick slashes comprised his eyebrows, which shadowed his deep-set eyes.  An aquiline nose jutted out sharply as if to counteract the eyes and broad cheekbones swept out dramatically before tapering into a wide and clefted chin that stuck out belligerently.

            "Well, _Blueberry_, shall we call you that or do you have a name, perhaps?" he boomed again.  The glint of humor in his dark eyes made Henry smile.

            [My name is Wong Henry.]  As he said this, Master Sori grasped his left arm with surprising gentleness from such large hands and inspected the bruise.

            After a moment of silence on his part, he looked up at Henry.  "Well?  Would you prefer 'Blueberry'?  No need to be shy or suspicious.  This is a merchant caravan we are on, and I am a simple blacksmith.  That harping lunk you just met, is my apprentice.  See?  We've got nothing to hide."

            Henry stared at him with surprise.  But before he could reply, Kazu said, "What're you talkin' about, Master Sori?  He said 'is name's Henry."

            Master Sori turned to glare at his apprentice.  "Boy!  Don't go puttin' words into other people's mouth!  That's damn rude and makes you look like a liar!"

            "I'm not lying!  He said it clear as day: 'My name is Wong Henry.'  Didn't you say that?"  Kazu turned to him.

            Henry stared at Master Sori's face carefully.  [Yes.  That is what I said.]

            No flicker of acknowledgment.  Not a single twitch as to show that he'd heard.  No response at all.

            "Well?" he demanded.  "Did you or did you not say that?"

            This time Henry nodded.

            Master Sori blinked.  He cleared his throat and it seemed like a rumble of thunder rolling in the distance.  "So you did?  Hm.  Must be sittin' near the bellows too long . . . and this body ain't what it used to be."

            Henry shook his head and turned to Kazu.  [No.  Tell him, it is not he.  I was born mute.  I have never uttered a word that anyone could hear until just recently.  I do not know what to make of it, but I suspect you and Rika are the only two who can hear me.]

            Kazu's brow furrowed with confusion, but he faithfully conveyed the message to his master.

            "You don't say?" Master Sori said.  "Is this true, Henry?"

            Henry nodded again.

            "But why would my idiot apprentice be able to hear you?  He doesn't have any special abilities I'm aware of.  In fact, I'm often surprised when he sometimes _think_ with that mush he calls a brain."

            "Hey!"

            [I do not know why he can hear me,] Henry said.  

            "And Rika?" Master Sori asked after Kazu had finished translating.  "Is she this little lady, here?"

            [Yes.]  Henry nodded.  

            "Is she ill?  Why doesn't she wake?  Her injuries don't seem too horrible, and in fact, I'd almost say she didn't participate in the fight with the brigands, did she?"

            [Yes.  She and I came from the Tunes.]  Henry quickly related a summary of what had transpired.  [And now I am searching for a healer or someone who can help her.  She has been asleep since . . .  How long was I asleep?]

            "We don't know how long you were on the road, but we found you this mornin', all beat up n' bloody."  Kazu said.  "We saw the remains of the bandits in the forest and boy, was there ever a lot of blood!  You're lucky you didn't die!"

            As if a plug had been pulled, memories of the encounter with the brigands swept through Henry's mind.  His sword had fallen.  He had thought he would die.  But the blood.  The blood on his hands. . . .  He'd felt _something_.  Like a heartbeat that was not his own and a voice that had echoed through him.  

            He had been frightened.

            Whatever it was, it was . . . another.  It was not him.  It had galvanized him into action against the armed bandits and brought him through alive, but it wanted something of him.

            "Henry?" Master Sori said.  "Are you alright?"

            [. . . The bandits.]  Henry paused to stare out the back of the cart and caught the last crimson rays of the sun.  Like blood.  [Were they all . . .?]

            "What?" Kazu asked.

            [Did all of them . . . die?]

            "There weren't one breathin' when we got there, and good riddance, too!  You did us a favor, Henry!"

            [Oh. . . .  Is that right?  I am suddenly very tired.  May I rest, please?]

            Master Sori and Kazu both blinked at the sudden somber expression that fell over Henry's face.

            "He . . . He says he wants t'sleep," Kazu said uncertainly.  

            Not understanding the whole conversation between the two boys, but suspecting what Henry had asked, Master Sori clapped a fatherly hand on the grey-eyed boy's shoulder.  "Yes.  You must be very tired.  Sleep will be best for you right now and if Rika is an Echo as you say, she'll recover eventually.  Do not worry overly so."  He ruffled Henry's midnight blue locks as if he were a little boy.  "You're a brave lad, y'hear?"

            With that he stood up and made his way to the front of the jouncing cart.  Kazu unfolded his long limbs from his position atop the crate and followed his master.

            "Huh?  Whaddya mean by that, Master Sori?"

            "It means you're a dolt, who doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut."

            "Hey!"

            Above a dark and jagged streak of foothills in the distance, a scarlet band pulsed angrily as it gradually faded into the velvet of night.  Like the blonde bandit, Henry thought.  He'd been fighting feverishly, even as his men had fallen around him, and Henry had seen the terror and desperation in his eyes.  Had even heard his last whispered words.

_"You're a monster. . . ."_

Henry shuddered.  The slight nip earlier had turned into a cold chill as the sun's warming rays had disappeared.  The first twinkle of stars peeked through, their brilliance surpassed only by the large, mottled moon.  He wondered if that same brilliance touched upon their cold corpses in that forest, casting blue-white tinges upon their dead skin and reflecting tips of light within their unseeing eyes in imitation of an intelligent spark.  Or had carrion birds already feasted upon those orbs of flesh?  Maybe the light could not touch them because of the inevitable cloud of flies that would swarm to their dead flesh as a starving man at a buffet.  A velvet cloud of sickening decay.

Nausea turned his stomach and bile rose in his throat.  Henry clutched his stomach and curled in on himself.  Not noticing the angry throbbing of his injured shoulder, or the snowy linen soaking up more redness along his thigh, or the painful jolt all along his left arm.  He heaved dryly, painful wrackings of his frame as he jerked repeatedly.  Then collapsed, whatever little energy left, spent.  He remained curled up on his side, staring at the distant hills, limned with blood, and slowly, it blurred into crystalline angles until something hot and wet trailed to the corner of his eyes before plopping onto the pallet, soaking two dark spots into the rough wool.

Against his chest, his bruised arm throbbed like a heartbeat that was not his own.

Kazu glanced back.  His sight had always been unusually keen and could cut through darkness easily, but this time they were useless in the inky blackness that completely engulfed the back of the cart.  Like a velvet cloak to hide the slight shuffling he'd heard.  He looked at Master Sori, who shook his head and kept his gaze on the bouncing wagon before theirs.  Liu's swaddled figure drooped slightly, whether in exhaustion or the drunken haze he always seemed to be in, Kazu could not tell.  But Liu did not acknowledge either man's presences, just as he'd ignored their other two passengers. 

Kazu sighed and tilted his head back to stare at the stars above.  Before returning to sit beside Liu, his master had murmured to him, "Don't tell anyone else about your ability to understand Henry.  And don't make me say it twice."  His master then glared at him until he'd shut his mouth with an audible click.  He wasn't stupid.  That look promised dire consequences if he did not listen.

He'd used that same look when they'd first discovered the two, passed out beside the road, not far from the forest where the bandits' bodies had been discovered.  No one else had bothered to stop.  Apparently, the bloody and tattered remains of Henry's clothes had been enough to convince them that they were dead.  

Not one to miss something as curious as this, Kazu had prodded the bodies gently with his foot.  Of course, no one could blame for leaping back with a startled yell. (He did _not _scream like a ninny!)  

'I mean, geez,' Kazu thought morosely, 'the guy was s'posed t'be dead!  How was I s'posed to know he was gonna jump me all psycho-like?'

The shocking discovery, however, had been Rika.  An _Aav__._  With a Clow _man, _no less.  The Clow Empire and the Aav Matriarch weren't enemies, per se, but they certainly weren't chummy either.  Not enough that an Aav female would travel so far into the Clow empire, unless circumstances - such as an Ohtori Academy command - forced her hand.  And certainly not enough that some in the caravan wouldn't be averse to selling her as a slave while she was still unconscious.  Luckily for her, Master Sori was not fond of the idea of people sold like so much cattle.

 So their presence had been kept as inconspicuous as possible.

Kazu sighed again and turned his gaze to the dark sky beyond the cart before them.  It took him awhile to realize that the distant glimmering stars were not stars, but thousands of dragonlight; strange luminous orbs that floated lazily among the homes and populace and lit up the city of Cephiro only at night.  Many in the city claimed the lights had burned since the first blacksmith had set hammer to virgin silver ore, fresh from the bellies of the Ryuzaki Mountains.  Kazu would nod and grin stupidly and they would usually stop there.  The residents tended to be a bit . . . arrogant about their city.

Not that he blamed them.  Cephiro was built into the side of Mount Huo.  The founders had literally gouged into the earth of the mountain and built their palace against the back wall.  Thousands of bleached buildings, built from the copious amount of blonde clay thereabout, fanned out from the palace in a large semicircle, the neatly ordered streets looking a great deal like the spokes on a wheel.  

Dragonblood stone, a veined quartz that was harder than regular stone, had been quarried from deep within the Ryuzaki mountains and used to build the palace and the wall defenses.  A wall protected the nobles' housing and the palace, and another wall cut a swath between the rest of the city and the outlying farms. They reflected all kinds of light, causing a cool iridescence that shimmered over the white clay buildings.  The quick flirtations of shadows and light made the city glow and glitter as if one had glimpsed an underwater city.  Upon first gazing upon the city, Kazu had almost expected to see the darting shadows of merpeople.

In the day, under the brilliant sun, it shimmered.  But at night, with the moon's glow and the dragonlight like flitting ghosts, it was breathtaking.

Kazu scuttled to the back of the cart quickly, despite his master's sharp frown.  Crouching and feeling his way quickly, Kazu's searching hands soon found their target.  He prodded the form gently.

"Hey, Blueberry.  Hey."  Briefly, he wondered if the form beneath his insistent hands was fast asleep, but then Henry stirred.

[Yes?]

Well, he didn't _sound _tired.  "C'mon.  You should come n' see this.  You'll like it, I promise."

[. . . What is it?]

"C'mon."  He tugged again.  "Before we get too close, else it ain't gonna be worth it."

The grey-eyed boy gave a mental sigh and slowly sat up.  From what moonlight that managed to peek through the open flap of the back, Kazu could see his misty-grey eyes blink rapidly as if he was blinking away sleepiness.  Kazu bit his lip.  Maybe he shouldn't have . . . but there were so few chances like this! 

"C'mon, Blueberry.  To the front of the cart.  Just put your hand on the crates n' walk through here, 'kay?" 

[Alright.]

They shuffled through the pitch blackness and made it to the front without serious mishap.  Kazu settled onto a crate directly behind Liu, who had nodded off, and Henry on another across from him.  Master Sori, now holding the reins, nodded to Henry then frowned at Kazu, who simply grinned cheekily in return.

"Ah."  Kazu pointed off into the distance.  "Good.  We're just 'bout to go over this rise and then you'll see."

[See what?]

"Just wait.  Keep your eyes on the 'orizon."

They crested the small rise, and there, before them, like a star-blessed fairy-tale castle, Cephiro shone in the shadowy alcove of the mountain.  As always, Kazu found his breath stalling suddenly in his lungs and after a long while, he had to force air back out to draw in more.  He heard a similar gasp from his master.  He turned to see Henry's reaction, and smiled, feeling inordinately pleased with himself.

The midnight-haired boy gaped.  His misty-grey eyes were wide, reflecting the distant lights of the city, and it seemed, he too, had forgotten to breathe.

He turned to Kazu, his voice hushed even across their strange mental link, [Wow.]

Kazu swelled with pride for his second home.  "Told ya it'd be good."

[Wh-where is this?  What city is this?]

"Cephiro.  Blest of the creatures of legends; the dragons."

[This was where _Bai__ Yin Lan was forged,] Henry said excitedly._

"_Bai__ Yin Lan?  Silver Blue?"_

[Ah.  My sword.]  Henry smiled, eyes becoming far away.  [It is an old sword that had been passed down through the generations.  From father to son.  A great sword that has seen-]  Grey eyes darkened suddenly and he stared at his hands.  [. . . many, many battles,] Henry whispered.

Kazu shifted and smiled gamely.  "Er, it must be very balanced. . . .  Hey!  Uh, where're you from, Blueberry?  You never said you were an Echo.  Are you an Echo?"

Henry shook his head and returned the smile.  [No.  I am not an Echo.  I do not know why I was summoned to the Academy, but I would have to refuse if they wish to make me one.]

"What?!  Are you serious?!"

Liu snorted and mumbled then settled himself more comfortably in his seat and stilled.  Master Sori stared at the approaching city wall, his expression bored, obviously not listening to Kazu's apparently one-sided conversation.

[Why should I be an Echo?  I have my Master Long, my home, my friends.  I am content with the path I have chosen.]

"But . . ."  Kazu shook his head.  "Man, you're boring!  What about adventure?  Seeing new lands," he smirked suggestively, "meeting girls, eh?  Eh?  Like Red in back there?"  He wiggled his brows.

Henry chuckled.  [Do you not have enough adventure traveling like this?]  He waved his hand to encompass the caravan.  [Surely, you have seen many new sights?]

Making a face, Kazu shook his head.  "Me and Master Sori only go far as Vione t'oversee the deliverance of our guild's goods.  Ain't much t'see from here t'there."  He sighed.  "It's sooo boring.  You don't know how lucky you are, a chance t'be an Echo!  Get to fight Mistakes and save people and go everywhere!"

[You know a lot about Echoes.]  Henry smiled.

"Well, duh!  Who hasn't?  There ain't as many Mistake attacks now, but _everyone _has heard of the Resonators, yeah?  The Seven who defeated I-Rur, the Dark R!"

[There were seven Resonators?  I thought there were only six.]

Kazu waved his hand dismissively.  "You've heard the stories, yeah?  Of how the six rediscovered the Great Mother when all mankind forgot her, and with 'er blessings, went forth to battle I-Rur, who'd been laying waste t'the land?"  Kazu shrugged.  "Well, whatever, y'know of the Six, yeah?"

Henry nodded, eyes wide with curiosity.

Kazu leaned forward conspiratorially as if he was a child about to reveal a secret hiding spot.  "But there was another one. . . . A _woman_.  Who knew ancient magic.  Older than Echo Vibrations!  And _she_ was th'one who told 'em 'bout the Benevolent Mother Shuichon."

[Who was she?]

Shaking his head and keeping his voice pitched low, Kazu said, "No one knows.  They say she disappeared 'bout the time the Resonators died.  Some think she was Shuichon 'erself come in human form and that she appeared to the Resonators along the s'Ffalen strait."

[The s'Ffalen strait?  Is that not in the south?]

"Yep."  He sighed with longing regret.  "Yep.  Those musta been good days.  Heroes bein' made.  Warriors fightin' and _dragons!  _There were dragons back then.  Ahh, those are what the legends are made of."

[. . .  But . . . so many must have suffered then, too.  Legends can easily forget the pain; the misery; the blood and the tears of those same heroes, and if they can do that, what about all those nameless people?]  Henry's eyes were large and shone eerily silver with reflections of the pale moon above.   

"Well, those people probably had lots o' children and told stories 'bout all the heroes they'd seen, and then those children told their children, 'til we have our legends today, see?"  Kazu grinned.

Henry's eyelids flickered, but he did not move.  Like an invisible cloak, something seemed to pull across his face and relax the muscles until he had no expression.  

Kazu shivered.  Funny.  For as long as he could remember, he'd always been impervious to extreme heat and cold, but now, in the slight chill of evening air, goosebumps raised all along his arms.  Across from him, Henry's upturned face was white with the moon's ethreal rays.  As if he was a ghost.

Kazu shook his head of such fanciful thoughts.  Yet when he glanced at the navy-haired boy again, he felt the fine hairs raise along the back of his neck like the old biddies were always talkin' about when there was a ghoul around.  Henry looked like a ghost.  A spirit unable to depart to the next world because of some unforgettable pain.  

After a long while, Kazu ventured, "So . . . y'know how to use a sword!  Who taught you, anyway?"

[. . . I've learned from Master Long since I was four.]

"Really?!  Wow.  No wonder those bandits didn't stand a chance!"

 A cloud slid over the moon, plunging them into a shadowed land of twilight.

"Oh!"  Kazu gave in to the urge and vigorously rubbed his arms.  "Ahhh, I mean . . . you must be great. . . ." he finished lamely.

In the ensuing silence, he cleared his throat.  "So, um, your parents must be worried, yeah?"

[. . . My parents are dead.]

Kazu scratched the back of his head.  Was he ever bungling it!  Jeez, maybe he should take Master Sori's advise and keep his big mouth shut to save all of them bunch of grief.

[Do not feel bad, Kazu.  You could not have known, and I am sorry for being so absent-minded.]  Henry leaned his head back to stare at the wooden ceiling above.  [I am very worried about Master Long.  I wish I knew if Takato had been able to inform him of what has happened.]

"And you feel sorry you killed those bandits."  Right on the heels of that statement, Kazu slapped his forehead.  Fool, fool, _fool!_  

Henry stilled suddenly.   It wasn't a motion Kazu could see, but rather something he _felt.  _As if all energy in the surrounding area had been sucked into the youth sitting across from him.

[I do not want adventure, Kazu.]  Henry's teeth flashed with a pearlescent shimmer in the near darkness as he smiled mirthlessly.  [I had considered ignoring the missive Ohtori Academy had sent, but it was only my master's insistence, which convinced me to go.]

"What 'bout Red?  If you hadn't been there, she'd be digestin' in the Mistake's stomach.  You sayin' she's better off dead?"

[Of course not.  But maybe someone else could have saved her and taken her back to the Academy where she belongs.  At least she would be in experienced hands there. . . . And I would be with Master Long.]

"Jeez!  Don't get all emotional and crap on me, y'hear?  Who else was gonna get to 'er in time and 'sides, I was just sayin' as a maybe, yeah?  She's here.  You're here.  And both of you are alive, yeah?  Not too shabby if you ask me."

Henry stared off at the dragonlights.  His shoulder remained tense and shadows converged upon the planes of his face, hiding his expression.

Kazu looked at the distant city.  "Well?  How're the lights?  Was it worth it?"

Henry glanced back into the velvet gloom of the cart's interior.  He turned back to stare at the city, his storm-grey eyes bright in the luminescence.  He did not reply.

A/N:  Well?  How was it?  I hate character development because it is one of my weakest skills, but I suppose if I want to make this a relatively decent story I will have to work on that.  Ugh.  Please tell me what you think, and thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter Six

Kawaii Mimi-chan: Well, I don't know if you're still reading this fic.  Haha.  You kinda stopped at chapter three, but I thank you very much for your reviews and yes!  Review!  Review!  Stoke my author's ego!  Wahahahaha!  Heheh.  I'm glad you've liked it so far.

Smartypantskim12: Thank-you for telling me how much you're enjoying this.  I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!  As for the two of everybody . . . well, I will be explaining that as the story progresses so no worries there!  Haha.

IceQueen0690:  Thanks!  And I'll certainly try to.  I finally have a little break coming up so I should have some time.  Be on the lookout for my review!

KazeMadoshi: Nice name!  I don't know why, but for some reason I always had trouble remembering how your old name was spelled exactly.  I always had to check back to see if I'd gotten it right.  Haha.  Definitely think this one is easier to spell.  Heheh.  Well, like I told littleweirdwriter, the amount of animes I'm familiar with, just shows you how much time I have on my hands, and it makes one wonder how my homework _never_ gets finished.  Haha!

Henrika: Thanks!  Hope this chapter whets your curiosity!

littleweirdwriter: Liked that "Blueberry" bit?  It's gonna become a very familiar nickname for Henry.  Heheh.  I'll be looking forward to that story!  Yeah!

Shadow of Light4: Thank you!  I hope you enjoy this chapter, too!

Resonators

By squishybookworm

Takato's stomach growled.

            An answering growl rumbled lowly from the bespectacled boy next to him and they both grinned sheepishly at each other.

            "Not again!" Jeri said from before them.  "I can't believe you two are _still _hungry.  We just ate!"  As if in protest to her words, her stomach gave up its own rumble and she slowly reddened under the combined smiles of the two boys.

"Hey, Jeri," Takato said, "at least we have the excuse of carrying them around."  His grin widened as her flush deepened.

            "Well I would help," she said, placing her hands on her hips, "if you two would stop acting so macho and _let _me."

            Takato glanced down at the burdens he and Kenta had been lugging through the underbrush.  It was a man and woman.  Namely, a man and woman _Echoes.  _They were ensconced in two 'litters', the three had hastily constructed from large leaves and vines.  Jeri searched diligently for the safest path in as straight as a line as possible, but that was not much with the woman injured.  So their shuffle had to be slow to avoid jarring her further.  They'd bound her wound with Kenta's gray jacket, but a large and red-purple bruise underneath her skin readily told the three that internal bleeding was a high possibility and she needed a healer as soon as possible.

Takato could not comprehend why the auburn-haired man could not have done his Vibration thingy and taken them to a village or something instead of here.  But he'd fallen unconscious as soon as they'd gotten out of that strange land yesterday.  At that point Kenta had informed them of the Fatigue Echoes usually experienced after Vibrating for so long outside of the Kami Tune, and how they would usually rest in a comatose state until their energy had been replenished.  

            So stuck in some strange, humid forest and with night approaching quickly they'd decided to rest beneath an overhang of rocks until morning.  In the morning, one look at their surroundings and they knew they were nowhere near the Duchy of Raleigh.  The strong perfume of strange flowers had teased their noses as raucous cries from birds above split the air like the laughter of some court jester as he tormented his victim.  Spindly trees bent gracefully under the weight of thousands of vines, which crept up smooth bark to disappear into the dense foliage above.  Profusions of ferns and twining leaves surrounded them and green moss created a thick carpet underfoot and that extended up the sides of the rocks they'd rested beneath.

            But what they noticed most readily was the heat.  Takato had awoken that morning with soaked hair and clothes like he'd just jumped, fully-clothed, into a tub of warm water.  It was not a pleasant sensation.  

Then there were the mosquitoes.  Egads!  They were huge!  He was surprised he hadn't died already from the amount of blood he'd surely lost.

            But despite that he couldn't help but feel more than a little excited. __

Just yesterday morning Takato could feel only the cool breeze of an early morning wind in Raleigh.  Just yesterday, he'd been sweeping out the front porch of their bread shop in readiness for the day.  Just yesterday, he and Jeri had been talking under the shadows of buildings as the sun cast its first rays upon the world.  Just yesterday he'd been an ordinary boy.  Now, according to Kenta, _he _had the ability to Vibrate.  _He _could become an Echo.  Like the ones he'd heard in the stories.  Like the one who had come to rescue them.  Ryo Akiyama.

Takato bit back a giddy smile.  An Echo.  Him.  An _Echo!  _He'd finally get to see the famous Ohtori Academy and all the lands in between.  He could get a cool and huge kick-ass sword like Ryo and go battling monsters.  This was so cool!  Maybe even one day they'd make stories of him!  Takato, the Echo.  No.  The Resonator!

"Oh, Shuichon have mercy on us!" Jeri exclaimed, "Takato, are you in there at all?  Hello?"

"What?" Takato said crossly.  "I can hear you perfectly fine, Jeri."

"Right.  And that was why I didn't have to call you four times before you answered me."

"I was thinking, okay?!"

"About what?  Your glory days as an Echo?"

Takato felt his flushed skin become even hotter and more sweat poured out along his temples to trickle down his face in salty runnels.  That was unnervingly close.  There were disadvantages to traveling with someone he knew too well.  Tch.  See if he invited her along to share his adventures when he became an Echo.  Ha!  "I wasn't thinking about that!  I was . . . I was . . . wondering where we are!  Yeah, that's it.  I was wondering where we are.  These plants don't look familiar and look!  There goes another one of those . . . those _things!_"

The 'thing' fixed beady eyes on them before chittering angrily and leaping away through the branches above.  It maneuvered nimbly through the thick foliage, its long hairy arms swinging out to get a good hold then pulled the rest of its body forward.  But what was so strange, was the intelligent spark in its eyes.  Takato swore it was not a trick of the light.  The dark eyes of the creature, set in a flat, almost _human_ face regarded them curiously, if not angrily, as if they were _aware_ of Takato and his group.  Not like the other animals, who ignored their presence as soon as they'd verified the strange new animal would be no harm to them.

"Kenta," Takato asked, "do you know what they are?"

Kenta watched the retreating form of the creature then picked up the handles of the 'stretcher' they'd made for the woman Echo.  He shook his head.  "I'm sorry.  I haven't been at the Academy long enough to study the various flora and animalia."

"The what and what?" Takato asked.

"Plants and animals," Jeri said.

"Oh."  Takato paused to internalize that bit of information.  "So, you don't know what that thing is?"

"Yes."  Kenta shook his head to shoo off a mosquito buzzing around his head.  This caused a brief shower as sweat flew from his soaked hair.

"You do?  Then what is it?"  Slapping at a mosquito on is arm, Takato then scratched another welt on his thigh.  How did they get there?  It was covered by the thick cloth of his loose trousers.  Admittedly, there were rents in several places, but not high enough that a pesky bugger could get him!

"No, I don't."  Kenta scowled at him.  "Are you doing this on purpose?  Or are you really that dense?"

"He's that dense," Jeri quipped brightly.  It sounded strange against the loud calls of birds, like the banging of a loud pan below the oppressive fog of heat.  She paused in her path making, to lift a corner of her skirt and wipe off sweat that had gathered on her forehead.

"Hey!" Takato protested.  "I am not!"  

When Jeri continued to mop off her face, Takato set the end of his litter down and stretched his arms gratefully.  All of the time spent, lifting large, wooden paddles to place bread dough in the oven had made him strong enough to possibly lift a man.  For a few seconds.  But lifting bread paddles did not fully develop the muscles necessary for dragging an unconscious man through a hot and humid and mosquito-infested forest.  Takato grimaced.  Ouch.  Maybe he shouldn't have tried to stretch his muscles.

"Tired, Takato?"  Swatting another annoying bug that was buzzing around her ear, Jeri smiled innocently.  Although, the soft bruises under her eyes made it seem more of a contortion.

Takato smacked his hands together.  A loud _crack_ resonated throughout the trees and a few birds took off suddenly, leaving a few leaves to scatter to the five people below.

"No," Takato said with a slight glare.  To which, Jeri raised one brow.  "I'm not tired.  Keep going."

"Why don't we take a break?"  The couple turned to Kenta, who nervously adjusted his glasses before running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.  He grimaced at his hand then looked up at them.  "It's way too hot and my muscles hurt."

"Okay," Takato agreed.  He prudently ignored Jeri's other raised brow.  "Kenta's tired and the mosquitoes are killing me!"  He suddenly did a strange jig around the clearing; swinging his legs and waving his arms wildly.  "Get off!  Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!  Gah!  Gah!  Aaaagggghhhhh!  Off!   Arrggghhh!  Aaaaahhh!"

_Smack!_  Peeling her hand away from Takatao's cheek, Jeri brushed off the flattened mosquito on her palm and smiled innocently at the baker.  "Feel better?"

He rubbed his cheek.  ". . . Owww."

"Geez," Kenta groaned, "I wish I was with Ryo.  I bet he's warm and dry in his bed and dining on plums and warm bread with butter and jam and wine and melon and hot porridge with honey and cream and fruit juice!"  He slowly slid down the smooth trunk of one tree and clutched his soaked hair in both hands.  "And when he wakes up, he'll have a nice, hot bath.  Ooohhh.  I want a bath right now!"

"What?  We're not wet enough?"  Takato asked, scowling slightly.  All that food sounded good, and he didn't even know what "plums" and "melon" were!

"My nose is permanently stuffed; I don't think I can ever lift anything up again; my skin will never stop itching; I swear I will never be able to get my hair clean again; and I'm huuuungrrryyyy!"

"We know that," Takato grumbled.  "Do you think you're the only one?"

"Why did they have to bring us here?!"  Kenta raised his head to glare at the unconscious Echoes.  "If we hadn't followed _him _we could be at the Academy now!  Ryo said we were near.  That forest was close enough!  Why did we follow him!  Why did we run away!"

"Why don't you just Vibrate-whatever us back!" Takato exclaimed.  "You're an Echo, aren't you?!"

"I told you, I haven't been there long enough to learn that yet!"

"Then _why_ are you here?!  Why did they bring you?!"

"I don't know!"  Kenta shifted his gaze to glare at a tree.  "Don't you think if I knew how, I would have done it by now!"

Takato snorted.  "You're very useful.  You can't even tell us where we are."

"Takato!" Jeri gasped.

"What?" he protested.  "It's true.  We should have never followed him!"  He pointed at Kenta accusingly.

"What are you talking about?!  I came to rescue you!"

"Some rescue!"

Kenta suddenly deflated.  He sank back against the trunk and stared morosely at his hands.  "Yeah.  You're right.  Some resue."  He gave a twisted smile.  "Some student I am, huh?  Can't even get _this_ right with _two_ Echoes.  My brother was right: I'm pathetic.  You should just leave me."

"H-hey, I didn't mean . . ." Takato said.

"Kenta. . . ."  Jeri approached the bespectacled boy and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.  "You're doing the best you can.  We all are.  So, please, try to hold on a little longer."

He shoved her hand away.  "No.  I won't.  I'm hot.  I'm tired.  I'm hungry.  And I itch.  I refuse to 'hold on'."

"Hey!"  Takato protested.  "Don't do that to Jeri!"

Kenta blinked.  Then shook his head and sighed.  He looked up at Jeri with wide, dark eyes.  "I'm terribly sorry."

Jeri sighed tiredly.  "I understand."  She tried to smile brightly, but it fell too quickly.  "Come on, boys.  Let's go.  Kenta, you will lead the way."

"Why does he get to lead?" Takato whined.

"Because I said so," Jeri snapped.  "Now, we go."  She bent down to grab the handles of the woman's litter.

"Oh, no," Kenta said quickly.  "No, let me, Miss Katou."  He rushed over, ready to relinquish the brunette's hold.

"I can handle it, okay?!"  

Kenta stepped back quickly from the girl's sudden glare.  "Uh . . ."

"Honestly!  You men!  Do you think women can't do anything at all?  Hm?  Well?"  Jeri huffed.  "Always have to have something to prove, don't you?!"

            Takato blinked.  Woah. 

            Kenta blinked.  "Um . . . I didn't—"

            "Of course not!  You're only injured and your clothes are only falling apart . . ."

            Everyone glanced at Kenta's quite intact clothing.  Dirt smudged the heavy material here and there, but the tough material had held up well despite the battering it had endured in the past twenty-four hours.  Unlike the other two.  Jeri's skirts were holding only through sheer volume, but thorns and branches had done their number on her sleeves and bodice, and she'd begun knotting the larger rips to prevent more tearing.  Takato's did not fare much better.

            "Well . . . your injuries anyway," Jeri finished.  Then her soft brown eyes hardened.  "I'm doing this, so just go."

            "O-okay."  Kenta backed away carefully from the mahogany-haired girl as if she would attack him suddenly when he turned his back.  

            Tightening her grip on the litter, Jeri nodded stiffly to Takato, who picked up his own burden and started after the Echo.  That look in her eyes was scarily familiar to his ma's before she bombarded him with the most horrible cleaning duties; such as scrubbing the outhouse.  Ick.  

            In any case, he was definitely not going to do anything to make her notice him now.  Who knew what she was capable of, especially with where they were now.

            They plodded through the undergrowth.  Green plants bent and snapped from their passage and overhead, the constant cries of unknown creatures and the flapping of foreign birds gradually gave way to insects and frogs as the sun passed its highest arc.  The constant sound of skin meeting skin as Kenta slapped away mosquitoes echoed throughout their green world and provided their only words through the march.  

Takato felt a blister form on his left hand and soon a twin appeared on his right.  They throbbed with needle sharp pangs each time he shifted his hands to get better leverage on the handles.  Sweat weighed down his clothing as if his mother had plastered him with dough.  His tongue felt swollen and every time he swallowed, the air scratched his throat like he was swallowing sand.  The emerald blur of leaves and smooth tree bark seemed to stand still even as he forded through them.

Near the end of midday, before the day slipped into twilight, Kenta stopped suddenly and gasped.

"Water," he rasped.  "There's . . ."

He disappeared through a screen of brush.

"What?" Takato asked numbly.  Then the word slowly filtered through his heat-hazed mind.  _Water._

He scrambled past the brush, swallowing thickly.  Water.  Water.  _Water._  

And there!  Looming like a faery-enchanted lake was the _water._

Well, it wasn't so much a _lake_ as it was a pond.  But it was water, nonetheless.  He could feel the cool droplets on his tongue already.  Could taste it.  Like a cool mint drop his ma had once gotten him in the market.

"Stop!"

The shrill voice, made harsher with the dryness, arrested both boys where they stood.  Surprised, Kenta paused in pushing back tall reeds to turn back to the voice.  Takato pulled one soaked foot out of the edge of the pond and glanced back at Jeri.

"Stop," she panted.  She slowly placed the woman Echo down and staggered forward.  "Kenta, Takato . . . no drinking . . . yet."  She paused to half-heartedly swat at a mosquito.

"Jeri?" Takato said.

"Why?"  Kenta glanced down at the clear green liquid lapping against his thighs.  He licked his lips.  "Jeri?"

"We don't . . . know if . . . it's safe. . . ."  Placing her hands on her knees, she bent over to pant shallowly.  "Ugh.  Air feels . . . too thick. . . ."

"Jeri.  You need water.  We all need water.  We have to risk it.  We have to drink this."

"No!"  She groaned lowly and clutched her chest as if she was in pain.  "No," she panted, "No matter . . . how thirsty . . . can't . . . can't. . . ."  

            Her other hand came up to her head and she began to weave.

            "Jeri!"

            "Miss Katou!"

            Both boys rushed to the mahogany-haired girl.

            "Jeri, sit down."  Takato grabbed her arm and put a steadying hand on the small of her back.  Her knees trembled and buckled.  She sat down sharply, with a large rustle of fluttering green leaves and heavy skirts.

            "Are you alright, Miss Katou?" Kenta said, crouching before her and peering at her face worriedly.

            After a few moments of low breathing, she raised her head to smile up to the two boys.  "Yes.  Yes, I'm fine.  I just got a little dizzy there.  I'm sorry I made you two worry."

            Takato shook his head.  "I'm getting you some water, Jeri.  You need it."  He got up to go, but a surprisingly strong grip on his tattered sleeve prevented him from doing so.

            "No, Takato."  Jeri shook her head for emphasis.  "_Look _at it, Takato."

Kenta waved off a bug that was buzzing too close to his head.  "My feet hurt and I'm thirsty.  My bruises hurts like hell.  Why can't we drink the water?"

"Yeah," Takato echoed.  "Why can't we drink out of the pool?  It looks clean enough." 

Jeri sighed.  "Takato.  Remember what Papa always told us?  Don't trust appearances.  The water may _look _clean, but look at the animals over there."  She pointed across the pond where large birds, with ridiculously long and thin legs, stood.  Their white, tufted heads bobbed forward like a chicken as they first extended one slender limb and set it down carefully before lifting the other up just as carefully.  One extended its head suddenly and jabbed through the water with its long yellow beak.  It came back up with a wriggling object that Takato soon identified as a frog.  

He saw Kenta begin to eye the green water a bit dubiously.

But . . .

"Unless we can boil it," Jeri continued, "it'll be alright, but we don't have a fire, much less a pot!  The only safe kind we can trust is running water."

"But—"

"But nothing, Takato!  What if we're in the Woglinde marshes, did you think about that?  Any water in that bogland is poison, no matter how clear it is!"

"So we should just die of thirst?!"

"No!"  She gasped sharply and turned her head away, but not before Takato caught the glimmer of tears.  "No.  I don't want that . . ."

Takato pulled back in surprise.  He hadn't meant to make her cry.  "H-hey. . . .  Don't . . . cry.  I didn't meant to yell at you," he finished awkwardly.  

She sniffed.  "It's not your fault, Takato.  I know you are hot and tired and hungry and thirsty, too.  I can't blame you for being a little angry, but . . . we can't drink that." 

"What if I try just a little sip first?  See what it tastes like, okay?  I remember what your papa said.  Salt water is even worse than not drinking any water.  So I'll taste it first, okay?"

"No!"

"I'm sure if the water was poison, nothing would be able to live in them," Kenta ventured.  "Those birds have to drink just like us."

"See?  Kenta thinks it's okay."

"No."

"Miss Katou," Kenta said.  "We can't afford to be stubborn.  If we don't drink that water, we are certain to die, but there is a chance the water is perfectly safe."

Jeri shook her head.  "Takato," she whispered, lips trembling, "we're so . . . so far away.  I've never been so far away from home."

Takato stared into her limpid brown eyes and fought back a sudden blush.  This was no time to be mooning after her like a lovesick fool!  

"Everything will be alright, Jeri," he said.  He straightened and smiled cockily like that Ryo guy had did to them.

"Will it?"  She reached out tentatively to grasp his hand.

"Yes."

She closed her eyes and held it for a moment.  Then she opened them again and gave a wavering smile.  "O . . . okay, Takato."

Takato squeezed her slim hand, the warmth sending another flush to his face and causing a lightheaded euphoria.  His head felt like it would float away and his smile was more than a little loose.  Did he care?  Ha!  

As far as he was concerned, there was no heat!  No exhaustion!  No thirst!  Ha!  What were those!  Mere mortal suffering!  He was an Echo, wasn't he?  A little thing like water was nothing compared to fighting off Mistakes!  No problem!

Across the pond, there was a loud splash as another of the strange birds swooped down and pinned an unlucky morsel of food beneath the clear jade water.

            The cool, gray stones had felt countless tapestries against its smooth surfaces as the ages waned.  They had seen  even more Dukes ascend the throne and just as quickly be replaced by another.  They had heard the numerous murmurings of thousands of lords and ladies as they had held court.  

            Yet today, they felt nothing.  Not the friction of leather clothing against sweating skin nor the smooth haft of a spear, warmed by human skin.  They saw nothing.  Not the tall, slender Duke as he swept out to a balcony and raised his hands, palms out to the thousands of soldiers.  But they heard.  They heard the dull roar of thousands upon thousands of voices raised in excitement and expectation.  The roar filled the swooping beams of the ceiling and curdled before plummeting to the single red carpet below.  Vibrant tapestries, depicting various houses with all the colors of the rainbow, shook and trembled as if in ecstasy.  The sound flew past the tall, finely carved oaken thrones and soaked into the gray stone behind it.  Another whisper in the innumerable history of secrets, the walls held.   

_Vreepvreepvreepvreep!_

The alarm echoed hollowly throughout the bare metal room.  It bounced off the painfully precise edges of the many gray rectangular shapes and reflected from the array of constantly blinking buttons.

            _Vreepvreepvreep!_

It twined subtly throughout the cacophony of sounds emitted from flashing consoles and wended its way through the gray maze of terminals.  It bounded from surface to smooth surface in the dim light provided by the surrounding machines.  Floating just above the low hum of the generators, it shot through the small aisle created by the ends of two different consoles, and proceeded to surround the young woman standing quietly before one of the workstations.  

            Her hazy eyes stared intently at a flickering screen as if her very life depended on it.  Thick, brunette lashes lowered briefly as she blinked and tilted her head.  

            _Vreepvreepvreepvreep!_

            After a while, cloudy purple slowly darkened to maroon as she registered the insistent alarm.  She stretched her neck to peer over the semi-cloistered workstations, trying to decipher the origin of the sound.  Finally spotting a rapidly blinking blue light a few consoles away, she sighed and turned away from the screen.  A glowing orb dodged her steps and illuminated her shifting robe.  The gauzy material shone eerily white in the near darkness and if anyone had been watching from afar, they would have claimed she was a fairy.  But if they'd peered closer, they would have found a shadow veiling her burgundy eyes as if some great sorrow haunted her daily.  Then they would have called her a ghost.

            Yet none of this registered on the woman as she gracefully wove through the maze of blinking machines like a wraith.  Coming upon the workstation that had disturbed her thoughts, she reached out with one pale, slender hand and lightly tapped the blue button. 

            Instantly, a darkened screen to the right sprung to life.  It showed a map.  The screen scrolled quickly to the largest landmass, zoomed in to the easternmost edge, and paused.  Then a red dot blipped into existence.  It stopped.

            The woman shook her head.  "I came all the way over here for this?"  She turned to go, but another inaudible blip caught her attention and she turned back.

            Another dot appeared next to the first.

            She held her breath, a sudden apprehension gripping her chest.  

            Blip.  Blip.  Blip.  Blipblipblipblipblipblipblipblipblipblipblip . . . .

            Red dots popped onto the screens.  One atop the other as if a legion of ants had found their way into the impenetrable room and were now swarming over the glowing screen.

            Blipblipblipblipblipblipblipblipblip . . . .

            Bursting across the image like a bloody blister.

            "No," she breathed.  "How . . . ?  How is this possible?"

            But still the dots continued to appear.

            "Ben, are the readings correct?"

            "Probability of error is 0.0000000387%," a mechanical, male voice replied.  "Probability of detecting error is 99.968739047000977085792865982097—"

            "Enough!"

            "Do you wish to run a diagnostic scan?"

            "No."  The woman ran a hand through her short brown hair, disbelieving eye still glued on the rapidly growing dots.  The premonition was growing.  It was trying to claw up her throat and she had to swallow forcibly.  She turned her head slowly, feeling as if her neck muscles had a will of their own; as if they wanted to keep her a witness to the angry dots bubbling over the image.

            "Ben," she asked hesitantly, "what are the Vibration parameters?  I know there cannot be this many Echoes.  How many Echoes have been activated?"

            "Vibration parameters includes 1000 Echoes at all times.  At present only 1000 Echoes have been activated."

            "Then . . . how . . . ?"  The woman swallowed and stared at the screen again.  Still, the dots continued to grow.  "Does the number correspond to the Vibrations on the screen, Ben?"

            "Negative."

            The woman's eyes widened and the dread dropped from her throat to pool in her stomach like a lead weight.  "But . . . Then how . . . ?  Ben, _how are so many Vibrations taking place?!_"

            "Unable to answer.  Question is not within the bounds of my programming.  Please rephrase the question."

            The woman shook her head.  "Ben, how many frequencies can be detected within the Vibrations."

            The machine whirred for a moment.  And still, the red dots grew ominously.

            "One frequency can be detected within the Vibration."

            "One?  That means only one person is Vibrating."

            "Affirmative."

            She could barely feel the soft breeze that puffed past her lips as she said, "Ben, match the Vibration with all existing Echoes and identify."

            The super computer whirred again.

            "One exact match found."

            "Who is it?' she whispered.  She grabbed a console, wishing the trembling in her hand was only a syndrome of the cyrogenic sleep then she could blame a physical malady.  But the computer had already informed her that any lingering side effects had been successfully purged from her body.

            "Katou, Jeri."

            The white-knuckled grip she had on the console did not lessen, but her knees buckled.  She sank down heavily and her head lowered.  Purple-brown hair fell forward to shield her dark eyes and left only the clenched line of her jaw to absorb the glow from the screen.

            "Damn," Shuichon whispered.  "Damn.  Please . . . not again. . . ."

            "Ah!" Jeri gasped.

            "Jeri?"  Takato turned around slowly.  "Jeri?  What . . . ?"  He trailed off and sucked in the heavy air sharply.  The fine hairs along the back of his neck rose and he stiffened as something like a cold, damp wind blew sharply through his being.  A sharp tingling, like a thousand needle pricks, swept across his skin and he shuddered.  There was a distant howl as if he'd pressed the shell, he and Jeri had found, tightly against his ear. 

Then it was over.

            Takato slumped to the ground with a low groan.  He grabbed his shoulders and hugged himself, still feeling the dampness yet.

            "Wh-what . . . ?" he gasped.

            "I . . . I don't . . ."  Kenta knelt before him, trembling.  "It felt like . . . someone did a . . . Vibration. . . ."

            "No way!  Why didn't it feel like this when _he _did it?"  With a trembling finger, Takato pointed to the unconscious Echo.

            Only . . . 

            He wasn't unconscious anymore.  

            The man's piercing green eyes were open so wide, an inane part of Takato's brain thought they would surely pop out if he widened them any further.   Mouth open in a silent scream, his clawed hands reached for something above them and his body arched away from the ground.  He gasped.  And fell back, panting heavily, one hand clutching dead leaves and dirt until the knuckle became white.

            "Miss Katou?" Kenta said.

            Takato turned away from the Echo.  "J-Jeri?"  What was wrong with her?  Why was she so stiff?  Why did she look so terrified?  Why did her eyes look so glazed?

"A-alone . . ." she whispered.

"Huh?" Takato replied.

". . . alone.  My . . . destiny . . . fate . . . who . . . my heart . . ."

"What?" Takato stammered.  "What is g-going _on_ here?!"

            "No!"  Rika's eyes snapped open.  Violet orbs flashed wildly as she flung the woolen blanket off in her thrashing.

            Something clamped down upon her arms and pinned her against the ground.  She bucked violently.  

            'Get up!' her mind screamed.  'Up.  NOW!'  

            But the creature straddled her legs and immobilized them.  She opened her mouth.  To scream.  To curse.  To bite.  Something.  Anything!  But all that came out was a terrified croak as she continued to twist madly from the monster's grasp. 

            She was going to die.  A Mistake had come.  _That_ Mistake had come back.  It was going to kill her.  It had her helpless.  She was going to die!

            [. . .ka.  Rika!  Please, calm down.  I do not want to hurt you.  Please, calm down!]

            Tense muscles gradually relaxed.  And as she did so, she felt the hard fingers on her upper arm loosen.  She blinked rapidly.  Then realized the near darkness was not a side-effect of her fatigue.  And realized the heavy body above her _still _hadn't moved.  

            She glared up, although she knew he could not see it.  He could hear her words, though.  "Off," she snapped.  "Now."

            [Oh!]  The body rolled off and landed lightly on the floor.  [I-I am sorry.  I did not mean to . . .]

            "Yeah.  I'm sure you didn't."  Rika sat up, slowing when a wave of dizziness overcame her.  

            A soft rustling sounded.  Then warm, golden light suddenly flooded the small, square room.  Rika blinked in surprise at a floating globe, which seemed to be the source of the light that was gilding the white stone walls.  Multicolored weavings hung along the walls to keep out the chill night air and braided rugs protected bare feet from the freezing floor.  Two trunks were piled into one corner with the one on top open and spilling its contents – clothes and various trinkets – across the floor and atop a low bronze table.  The bed she sat upon was a simple rectangular protrusion from the wall with a thick pallet thrown atop.  

            She looked up at the boy . . . the mute, Henry.  "Where are we?"

            [We are with a man, Master Sori and his apprentice, Kazu.]

            "Oh?  How did that happen?"

            Misty-grey eyes flickered and Henry turned away.  [You are early.]

            She traced the profile of his face, following the clean line of his clenched jaw.  Hmph.  Well, she supposed it didn't matter _how_ they got here, so long as they were alive.  "Early for what?"

            He unclenched his jaw and finally met her eyes again.  [Master Sori said most Echoes need at least three days to rest from their fatigue.  You are one day early.]

            "I'm not like most Echoes."  Rika shrugged.

            [But you did not wake up because of that, did you?]  Henry's grey eyes softened.

            Rika bristled.  "And how did Master Sori find us?" she spat.

            Immediately, she felt like she'd swallowed thorn as Henry's misty-grey eyes hardened to silver flints.  But even as he nodded stiffly at her and spun away, she straightened her spine and set her jaw, scowling.  He deserved it!  He shouldn't be poking into business that wasn't his!

            Yet the rigid line of his back seemed at odds with his lowered head.  Rika scowled even further.  Okay, maybe that wasn't exactly fair.  Who knew what had happened during the time she was unconscious to get him so upset, but she wasn't about to apologize!  

            Henry slowly relaxed his fists.  The navy-blue of his messy hair bobbed in the candlelight like an ocean at twilight as he straightened abruptly and started for the door.

            He didn't deserve it!  He didn't!

            "I had a nightmare."

            He paused, but did not turn around.

            "That was all."

            Henry shifted slightly and tilted his head slightly so she could see the outline of one cheek.  She didn't know whether to be relieved that he did not face her fully or anxious that he would not let her read him so easily.

            [When I met you . . .]

            "Huh?" Rika said.

            Henry's head shifted as he hid his face completely.  [For some reason, I thought about my mother.  That was the first time in a long time. . . .  She died long ago.]

            ". . ."

            Henry nodded and lifted aside the curtain, which separated the room from the rest of the house.  [Good night, Miss Nonaka.]

            Rika sat there for a long time.  It hadn't really been the nightmare that had awoken her.  But a very . . . a very cold wind.  A very damp wind.  Then it had felt like hundreds of centipedes had been crawling all over her and she couldn't see anything because it was so dark.  So . . . she'd wanted to wake up.  To open her eyes.  

She stared at the golden globe, which swayed gently in the damp breeze.  Yet, when she looked at the window, they were tightly closed.

And she suddenly wished she hadn't lied to Henry.

A/N: Hey!  I've finally taken the last final of the summer!  Yeah!  Now, I have bit more time to pound out these chapters. . . . But I am a really, really big idiot.  Er, heheh.  I kinda started another fic, so I'm trying to switch off in posting chapters between these two fics and so far it seems to be working.  Aheh.  Only problem is: I may take longer in posting chapters for _this _fic.  So even if months and months go by, _pleeaaase_ don't give up on me!  I'll try to get one more chapter for this fic before the summer is out!

Thank you very much for reading and please review!


	8. Chapter Seven

Virgo Writer:  Hi!  Hi!  Hi!  Thanks for stopping by to read and review my fic and you got here, right?  So, no worries!

littleweirdwriter:  Thanks!  I will!  (Oh, the horror!  Heheh.)

Shadow of Light4:  Yeah.  Haha.  But don't expect the guys to win too often.  Heheh.  As for the whole cold wind thing, well, that was actually the Vibrations the Echoes were feeling because there was a _huge_ surge.  I thought I'd explained that well when writing Shuichon's scene, but I guess not.  Maybe I'll go back and rewrite it sometime.  Thanks for pointing that out because what makes sense to me, may not make sense to my readers.  (Smiles.)

Henrika:  Heheh.  Uhh . . . was this wait long enough?  Err . . . sorry about that.  (Smiles.)

KazeMadoshi:  Don't feel dumb!  Or I'll stick my tongue out at you.  Heheh.  No, I'm just glad you like my story so much and that you keep reviewing.  Thank you!  

Blue_eyes17:  Good to know you're still here!  Thanks.  (Smiles.)

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1**Resonators**

by squishybookworm

            The land was gray. It was as gray as when Hirokazu had first began the journey and it was still gray now.  He was beginning to wonder if it would change at all. It wasn't even the washed-out gray of a well-worn, once vibrant gray tunic. No. It was as dull and depressing as gray could get without getting brown. No wind stirred the seemingly healthy – but gray – grass underfoot. Gray hills rolled off into the distance to create a gray smudge, which he assumed was the horizon, and _that_ gradually met the lighter gray of the sky, which came back towards him.  Hell, even his men were gray.

            But the landscape was not to blame for his growing irritation with his men's uneasy murmurs and their constant lurching about as they held onto their weapons with white-knuckled grips. Mouths were pressed into grim lines as eyes shifted furtively.  As if to make audible their nervousness, boiled leather armor creaked with each shuffling step and the soft thud of lance poles left behind another pockmark, which littered the matted gray grass.  

            Even the metal armor of mounted knights clanked loudly.  Squeaked with each of their uncomfortable repositioning.  This quickly relayed to their large horses, which whinnied and shied away from the squires' firm grips.  

            Below him, his horse, although a veteran warhorse, skittered uneasily at the slightest strange sounds. He didn't blame it, because even though it far surpassed other horses in intelligence, it was still a dumb beast that required a master to control it. His men, on the other hand, did not have the luxury of being a lower lifeform.

            Hirokazu frowned as his flag-bearer accidently bumped into his horse again. "ARE YOU ADDLED?!  WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING!" he roared.

            The young man jumped with a stifled shriek.  The flag-bearer looked up at his Duke with terrified eyes and bowed hastily, apologizing profusely. This action caused the other retainers behind him to trip over his bobbing form and curse him potently.

            "STAND UP, YOU DAMN IDIOT! CAN'T YOU SEE YOU'RE SLOWING DOWN THE BLIGHTED FOOLS BEHIND YOU?! I SHOULD LEAVE YOU BEHIND TO ROT!"

            "Ah! No, my Duke! I apologize, my Duke!"  His voice faded away as he straightened.

            Hirokazu soon lost sight of the young man as his horse continued forward.

            "Was that wise, my lord?"  The quiet voice on his other side was even and modulated.  

            Hirokazu turned to his adopted daughter and raised one dark brow.  "Think you?"

            Her striated golden eyes stayed trained on the smudged horizon as she smiled coldly.  "How effective will they be once we reach Cephiro?"

            Grinning savagely, Hirokazu flicked his reins once and his horse tossed its head angrily.  But his sure handling soon placated the great roan stallion.  "See you, Ruri, how this beast is so easily calmed?  It feels less fear than the quiver in that boy's fingers!  Yet it has nothing to spur it forward.  Nothing save the bite of my heels.  Think you it is wise to trust victory to such a dumb animal?"  He threw back his head and gave a boom of laughter.  "No!  It is the fear!  The smell of blood, the bite of steel, the sight of guts, which gets a man moving!  It is their _fear_ that will feed their anger and their courage!"  

            He laughed again and the few men behind him smiled tentatively and straightened.  One or two even swaggered as their voices got louder and another risked a guffaw at some joke his friend had said.  Like a ripple, this affected the men behind them and continued so on down the long line of men.

            Ruri's expression never changed, but the note of pleasure was clear in her voice.  "I see."  

            She turned her eerie golden eyes on him and they shone with a fey light, like a candle flame that never flickered.  Unlike most men, Hirokazu never flinched from the gaze.  

            "And think you, My Duke, if they shall be even more afeared when the Mistakes come?" Ruri asked.  "Will they be even more courageous?"

            Hirokazu only grinned savagely again.  "We'll see."

            "– lord!  My lord! Out of the way, men! I have an urgent message for my lord! Make way! Make way, I say! My lord Shioda!"

            Sighing heavily, the Duke of Raleigh, reined his horse and nodded to Ruri to continue the march.  He waited between two columns formed of marching soldiers for the messenger to reach him. It was the Baron Ryo Akiyama. He recognized the long brown curls, which the young nobleman never seemed to be able to tame.  Riveting midnight blue eyes flashed with overly enthused panic and he waved one arm excitedly as if his Duke was too nearsighted to make him out.          

            "My lord!" His chestnut gelding tossed its head, shying away from a mounted knight, who was patrolling up and down his column.  His clanking mail barely covered his loud expletive when Akiyama's waving arm caught his visor and it closed with a loud scrape of metal. 

            "I have urgent news of my lady Shioda!" Akiyama said.  "She is raving, your Grace!"

            "Silence, man!" the abused knight bellowed at the Baron.  He swiped the visor back, irritated and demanded, "How dare you speak so of the Duchess!"

            Akiyama paused, eyes widening.  "Oh!  I apologize, Your Grace!  But I think you should see her.  She's saying the strangest things. . . ."

            "What insolence–"

            "Hold, Count Kashue."  Hirokazu held up his hand.  

            The knight immediately quieted.  His dark mustache twitched and he was clearly annoyed at having to defer to the younger Akiyama, but he held his peace, nonetheless.

            The Duke waited patiently as Akiyama finally reached his side.  Seemingly oblivious of the glower the Count sent his way when he pressed too close, Baron Ryo sketched a quick bob from atop his gelding.  "She's talking of fate and being alone and not making any sound sense, Your Grace.  Her maids felt it was prudent to inform you as soon as possible, my lord."

            "I knew we shouldn't be bringing women on a campaign, my lord," Kashue murmured.  "It is still not too late to be returning them home again."

            Hirokazu sent the knight a sharp glance.  Then he smiled, making sure all his teeth were bared.  "Think you she is a burden, Kashue?"

            Kashue never blinked.  "Yes."

            "HAHAHAHAHA!"  Hirokazu threw back his head, causing a few long strands of his dark brown hair to become dislodged from the thin, plain gold circlet.  He clapped the knight's shoulder companionably and turned to the Baron.  "Such a blunt man!  Not afeared of the truth, this one, eh?"

            Akiyama blinked.  "Er, yes, my lord.  But Her Grace, my lord . . ."

            Hirokazu waved one hand negligently and nudged his horse into a canter, which the other two matched.  "Yes, yes, yes, lord knight.  I shall go now.  I shall see how my lady wife fares.  Does that suit you?"

            "I don't mean to be impertinent, my lord."

            "If you were impertinent Akiyama, your head would be rolling."  His toothy grin did nothing to ease the sudden ashen pallor of the young Baron and Kashue's stony expression certainly did not help.  "Come now!  I was only jesting, yes?"  Hirokazu laughed again as he nudged his horse towards the back where the supply train was located.  Nonetheless, as he followed his Duke, Akiyama made a sure reminder to himself to never anger his lord in any way.  

            They passed by hundreds of soldiers, whose grim faces alighted with smiles and loud salutations upon seeing their Duke stride past, tall and regal on his large roan stallion and with his long hair waving behind him like a flag.  Against the backdrop of the gray sky, he looked vibrant and invincible with his silver-polished armor, gleaming circlet, and the vivid crimson tunic with a sleek fox embroidered in black.  The ebony folds of his cloak was thrown back, clearly displaying the glittering ruby in the pommel of his gilded sword.  

            But the rich trappings were merely ornaments on the man, who radiated power like the sun radiated heat.  His light blue eyes reflected a clearness so sharp, it could have been mistaken for high intelligence, except the bright gleam was just a little _too_ bright.  Like that found in a fever-induced gaze.  However, the marching men noticed none of that.  They only saw the confident tilt of his fine chin and the sure handling of his roan.

            Lancers gave way to foot soldiers to another company of lancers and then the beginnings of the healers' carts and supply train passed by the three mounted men.  They finally came upon a deep red carriage trimmed with ebony and led by four white mares.  This was flanked by eight maids, each on a matching white mare and trappings denoting the colors of their respective titles.  

            Count Kashue's wife, as noted by the dark blue and amber of her saddle, was the most senior lady as she was allowed to hover closest to the closed door of the carriage.  She was a sharp-eyed matron with noticeably high cheekbones much like her husband, yet the unforgiving cragginess found in the Count's face was not present in hers.  

            She nudged her horse forward to approach the three as they drew close.  "My lord," she intoned with a nod.  

            Hirokazu trotted past her to the carriage.  "How long has she been like this?"

            "Since the Vibration, Your Grace."

            "Well," Hirokazu murmured, "I didn't expect her to be like so for so long.  Ruri really must inform me much more thoroughly."

            "I'm sorry, my lord?" Countess Kashue said.

            "None of your concern, my lady."

            "If my lord would allow me to be so bold?" the Countess continued.

            "Yes, yes, go on."

            "Perhaps if you would speak to her, she would respond to your voice."

            "Yes, yes, perhaps it would be best if I do so.  No reason to let my dear lady wife think she is alone, yes?"  Before the others could reply, Hirokazu parted the curtains keeping out the gray landscape from his wife's sensibilities.  "My lady?" 

            ". . . alone.  My . . . destiny . . . fate . . . who . . . my heart . . ."  The whisper floated from the gloom of the interior as if a wraith had taken residence in the heart of the crimson carriage.

            "Hmph.  Don't be so cold, my lady.  My lady!  My ladyi!  It is I, your beloved husband!"

            ". . . no one . . . why . . . ?  Where . . . my . . . please . . . not alone . . . no . . ."

            Frowning heavily, the Duke deftly leapt from his horse and opened the door of the slow-moving vehicle and entered.  "My lady, must you be such a bother?  I said 'tis I, your loving husband, come to see how you fare."   

            The scent of heavy perfume reached him first in the dim carriage.  Underneath, a subtle odor, sweet and fresh, something separate from the cloying perfume the court ladies seemed to find so necessary, permeated the huddled form on the floor. 

            Her dress pooled around her form like the petals of a blooming flower, and she sat daintily in the middle like a hummingbird.  What light reached her pale skin burned a gold sheen on the smooth surface and a long, silky brown mane of hair curled over her shoulder to spread gracefully about the seats and the floor.  He fingered a lank in his hand, enjoying the smooth texture rolling between his fingers.

            He sniffed again, unsure of what it was exactly.  Rosewater that his wife bathed her hair in every night and lavender water, which she used every morning to wash her hands and face, mixed dizzily with the heavy perfume.   

            ". . . dream . . . not real . . . who . . . who . . . are you . . . ?  Takato . . . ?  Where . . . alone . . ."

            "Takato?" Hirokazu snapped.  _That_ was what it was.  The scent.  The scent of fresh apple blossoms.  Like the orchard she'd always claimed to love to visit.  And he knew she especially loved to visit it at night when she thought no one was watching.

            The hand grasping her hair shuddered and he wound the length around his hand until he reached the base of her skull.  There, he jerked.  But she didn't cry out.  Her glassy mahogany eyes stared up at him sightlessly as her pale coral lips moved around her disjointed words.

            The Duke of Raleigh pushed in until he was sure she could feel his hot breath upon her cheek.  "Don't forget, _my _lady, you are _mine_, now.  You were bought and paid for in three titled lands and two thousand coin-weight in gold," he hissed, "You are here to birth _my_ children, not the spawns of a lowly soldier."

            ". . . alone . . . destiny . . ."

            "Ahh, my lady.  But you are not alone now."  He nuzzled her cheek, breathing in the scent of lavender and apple blossoms.  "Be grateful that I did not slay you on the spot when I learned of your disgraceful and licentious behavior," he whispered, his hot breath causing wisps of rich mahogany strands to flutter feebly against her temple.  "Be grateful that I am such a generous person that I did not ruin your good name and that of your family.  But for that . . ."  He smiled, light blue eyes shining with an unholy light, " for that, Jeri, you must remain at my side.  Always."

            He traced a path from the slender column of her neck, under the soft skin of her jaw, and onto her moving lips, which he stroked lightly with the pad of his thumb.  Yet her unfocused eyes remained distant and unaware of his touch.

            "Hmph."  With a rough jerk, Hirokazu shoved her away.  She crashed against the door and sprawled with a stirring of expensive perfume, rose, and lavender.  She remained collapsed, hands limply hidden in the folds of the dress, which looked like a crushed flower petals.  

            "Whoring wench," he muttered, before opening the door and leaving the cloying interior of the carriage.  

            "Be she well, my lord?" Ryo asked as HIrokazu stepped from the carriage.

            "She says the dust bothers her something fierce."  Hirokazu regained his seat on his roan then turned to the three nobles.  He grinned slowly, looking very much like the fox depicted on his tunic.  "Shall we leave her Grace be?"   

            ". . . no one . . ."

            Where was she?

            ". . . why . . . ?  Where . . ."

            This place was bright.  So bright, Jeri wondered where the light could be coming from seeing as there was no sun in the sky of wherever this place was.

            ". . . my . . . please . . . not alone . . ."

            Then something flickered at the edge of her vision.  Jeri spun quickly, knowing if she did not catch the phantom movement, it would disappear like that in a dream.  But the object didn't disappear.

            ". . . no . . ."

            The voice.  The voice was coming from that . . . thing.  It was a sphere.  Shimmering with light and pale colors, yet it wasn't the source of light illuminating the vast plain she found herself in.

            "Is this a dream?"  She started in surprise as her voice sounded clearly in the empty space.  She'd expected it to be quieter, as if somehow her voice wouldn't sound so real.  Like a dream voice.  

            ". . . dream . . . not real . . ."

            "Hello?"  Jeri made her way to the strange globe.  Yes.  The voice was definitely coming from there.  "Hello?  Can you hear me?  Do you know where I am?  Who are you?"

            ". . . who . . ."

            "Yes!  It's me!  My name is Jeri.  I'm calling!  Can you tell me where I am?  What is this place?  Who are you?"  Jeri ran towards the object, her heart beginning to pound heavily.  Where was she?  What was this?  Where was she?  Where was Takato?  Why was she here?  Where was she?  What was happening?  Where was Takato?    "Please!  Please, answer me!  Who are you?!"

            Her feet pounded against something solid, yet the unending whiteness of the place made the sensation of infinite boundaries and she felt as if she wasn't moving no matter how hard she ran.  Each footfall made no sound against the unseen, but firm surface.  She could only hear the loud beat of her heart in her ears and somehow that made the white space seem so much larger.  So much more lonely.

            Her breath hitched as a cramp began low in her side.  Heavy skirts pulling at her pumping legs, she cursed the cumbersome weight as she lifted them to avoid tripping.  She looked up and blinked.  

            The object seemed as far away as when she'd first began running!

            What was going on here?!  Where was she?!  Was this a dream?!

            "Hey!  Wait!  Please answer me!  Who are you?  Where am I?  Please!"  She ran again, hands reaching up to the iridescent sphere above.  Desperate to catch it as panic began pounding in her chest.  

            It was like when she'd been younger and her mother had taken her to the market.  She'd gotten separated and for hours, had seached for her mother or anything familiar.  No matter how hard she'd cried, no one had helped her or found her and she'd finally collapsed in a corner of an entrance to a shop.  But the owner had chased her off and she was forced to walk around endlessly, young legs cramping from hours of usuage, face blotchy with too much exposure to the sun, and eyes tearing continuously.  Although there had been many people wandering the streets, no one had bothered to stop.  To help the little girl with the tear-stained face.  She was alone.

            "_Please!" _she begged, "_Don't leave me!  Don't leave me alone!   Where am I?  Who are you?  Who are you?!"_

            ". . . who . . . are you . . . ?"

            "Jeri!  My name is Jeri!  Please, can you tell me where I am?  Who are you?  Please, don't leave me!  Don't leave me alone!  Please!  Takato!  Takato!  Where are you?  Answer me, please!  Takato!  TAKATO!"

            That's right.  Back then, Takato had found her, bawling by a fountain in a courtyard not far from where she'd lived.  He'd been splashing around in the water for a while, before he'd noticed the sobbing girl.  And he'd done something Jeri had not expected. 

            He'd splashed her.

            The shock of the cold water had been enough to silence her for a few seconds.  Long enough for him to grin easily at her and ask if she'd wanted to play with him at home.

            Her heavy skirts slipped from her grasp and tangled between her legs.  Jeri gasped, brown eyes wide as she flung her hands out in an instinctive attempt to find purchase.  But in the endless, white landscape, she found nothing to grab.  Nothing.  She was alone.

            She screamed, "TAKATO!"  

            ". . . Takato . . . ?" the voice repeated.

            She fell.

            "JERI!"

            Jeri's brown eyes flew open to stare up in concerned wine-red eyes.  She gasped and grabbed the brown-haired boy in a tight hug.  "Takato!"

            "Jeri?" his surprised voice murmured from above reassuringly, and rumbled through his warm chest.  "What happened?"

            But she couldn't answer.  She was too busy inhaling the comforting smell of baked bread he always exuded, despite the sweat salty smell that also accompanied him this time.  She concentrated on the even rise and fall of his chest, unaware of the soaked shirt brushing roughly against her cheek.  Takato was here.  Takato was here.  He was _here_!

            ". . . Jeri?"

            She only shook her head, biting her lip and burrowing deeper into the boy's embrace.  She didn't want to talk.  She only wanted to breath in his familiar scent and feel his steady breathing surround her.  To revel in his beating heart and hear his soothing voice.  She didn't want to say anything.  Nonetheless, a sob broke past her lips and she squeezed harder, as if she was trying to crawl into Takato's skin.  

            He murmured something unintelligible then stroked her hair gently and rocked back and forth.  After a long while, Jeri's grip loosened, but she did not pull away.

            "Jeri?  What's wrong?  What happened?"

            Finally, she straightened and turned away swiftly, swiping her eyes with her arm as she did so.  

            "I . . . I'm sorry for being such a child," she said.  The muggy air was still hot, yet she already missed the warm encirclement of Takato's arms.

            "You're not a child, Jeri," Takato said quietly.  She turned back to him, watery eyes wide at the note of passion in his tone and his flushed skin seemed to turn a darker shade of red as he said, "_I_ don't think you're a child."   

            He held her stare steadily, frowning slightly as if he could convince her of this with his eyes alone.  It was somewhat . . . intense.  And it suddenly made her light-headed.  

            "Takato," she breathed.  

            His irises darkening to a plum color, he gently grasped her arms and pulled her back into his embrace.  Immediately, the smell of his sweat and fresh-baked bread surrounded her, and his arms, lightly muscled from lifting heavy breadpans for most of his life, were wet with new perspiration, yet they were solid and warm beneath the worn cotton of his tunic as he tightened his hold.  Like a drum, his heart continued its steady pace against her cheek again as she flattened her palm over the firm definition of his chest.

            "Jeri," he said quietly.  "Don't ever scare me like that again.  I'm so glad . . . so glad you're back."

            She smiled, feeling his shirt brush against her lips lightly.  It was warm from his skin, she realized.  Right on the heels of that thought, her lips began tingling slightly and if her arms had not been trapped by Takato's hug, she would have reached up to press them, to savor the sensation.

            "Jeri, what happened?"

            Her smile fell.  Burrowing her head under his chin as if that would chase away the image of empty white plains and a broken, whispering voice, she inhaled his scent once more.

            "I really . . . don't know," she whispered.  She absently smoothed out his soaked shirt against his chest, patting it reassuringly when he grimaced at the sticky feel.  Nonetheless, his arms tightened.

            And she would have been content to stay like this for quite a while longer, had not the sound of a clearing throat made Takato leap away from her as if she had the plague or some such nonsense.

            "Am I interrupting something?" Kenta's innocent voice broke the fragile spell they'd woven and Jeri sighed inaudibly.

            "Ah, uh, n-n-n-no!  Nothing!  N-nope!  Nuh-uh!  Nothing at all!"  Takato waved his arms before him wildly as if that would hasten the words to the bespectacled boy's ears.  "Honestly!  Jeri just woke up!  Nothing happened!"

            Jeri pushed back from the furiously blushing Takato – not that anyone noticed since he'd been red since they'd first arrived anyway – and flashed a reassuring smile to Kenta.  "Are you okay, Kenta?"

            "Yes, I'm fine, Miss Katou.  What about you?  Are you . . ."

            She smiled again.  "All my senses seem intact and aside from the fact that I'm really, very thirsty again, I think I will be fine."

            "You're thirsty?!"  Takato shot up like a bug had bitten him.  "I-I'll go get you some water!" he shouted.

            Jeri winced as he walked away stiffly, studiously ignoring the questioning glance Kenta shot his way.  After he'd disappeared through the brush, Kenta turned back to the sitting girl. 

            "Was it something I said?" he asked.

            "No," Jeri reassured, "Takato's just a little embarrassed."  She gave a small giggle that petered off quickly to be replaced by a pensive look.

            "Miss Katou, what's wrong?"

            "She recognized his name," she murmured.

            "I'm sorry?"

            Jeri started and looked up.  "Oh, nothing.  It's nothing." 

            "Oh. . . .  Um, Miss Katou . . . ?"

            "Yes?"

            "Uh, what . . . happened, exactly?"

            "Happened?"

            "You know, when the Vibration began, because we're all Echoes, we could feel it, but you . . . you . . . it wasn't _only_ the Vibration.  After the Vibration, the rest of us were alright, but something strange happened to you. . . .  Are you sure you're alright?"

            "I . . ."  Jeri looked down at her hands and idly noted the whiteness of her knuckles as she twisted her skirt into a crumpled mess.  Alright?  Was she alright?  Now.  Now, with the last rays of the sun filtering through the shadowed green canopy above and the heavy, yet _real,_ wind twisting through the heavy undergrowth, she could convince herself that it had been nothing but a dream.  But . . . 

            "I don't know if it is an indication of your latent powers as an Echo or some other force, but Miss Katou," Kenta adjusted his spectacles nervously, "I know you were Vibrating while you were in your . . . trance. . . .  And just now, I'd felt the Vibration end, that's why I came to find you."

            "I . . . wasn't aware of Vibrating . . ." Jeri said hesitantly, "I really don't know much of this Vibration except what my father has told me."  At the bespectacled Echo's questioning look, Jeri hastened to explain, "My father is a bard.  He'd travelled for quite some time before settling down to become an innkeeper.  Of course, you must know that Echoes are the most romantic subjects in tales and most tales must have some kernel of truth to them, yes?"

            "I suppose so."

            "From what I remember, Vibration is the skill Echoes use to move themselves from one Tune to another, right?"

            "Yes.  But it can also be used to enhance our abilities or communicate over long distances or something like that.  It all depends on the person and the extent to which his di-genes has activated."

            "Di-genes?"

            "Yes.  Not many people know of that part, so I doubt bardic tales will mention them much.  But, basically they are the sources of our Vibration skills.  When another person Vibrates, other Echoes can feel that person Vibrating.  Do you know that feeling when a cold wind blows across your naked skin?"

            Jeri nodded.

            "That's what most Vibrations feel like."

            "Most?"

            "Well, right before you became, ah, catatonic, there was a powerful rush, like someone had been Vibrating . . . only . . ."

            "Only what?"

            "Only . . . it was so powerful . . .  I've never heard of anyone that powerful.  Never felt a Vibration that intensely before."  Kenta paused, expression disquieted as he adjusted his spectacles again.  "It even forced the Echoes to wake up."

            "Is it so hard?" Jeri wondered out loud.  She shuddered to think what would happen if that blank place found her again and she couldn't get out.  Clutching her skirts tightly, she shook her head to dispel that thought.  

            "An Echo's fatigue is not willingly done.  Their bodies falls asleep despite any protests they may have.  They _can't_ just wake up.  In fact, what has happened is impossible!"

            "But it did," Takato said quietly.  He reentered the clearing then carefully placed a large leaf filled with water into Jeri's waiting palms and straightened quickly, turning away with an awkward cough.

            Kenta stared at him, unable to refute that fact.  Red-orange rays of light fingered into their secluded clearing, laying a pattern of shadows and red-gold light against the floor.  A bird twittered above, rousing again, now that the heat of day was gone and the soft hum of insects slowly rose above the wind in the trees.  The smell of mildew and rotting leaves surrounded Jeri thickly interwoven in the oppressive cloak of heat that seemed determined to cling to the landscape, even through the night.  She wished Takato would come sit near her..  She wanted his comforting scent of fresh-baked bread.

            "What happened, Miss Katou?" Kenta asked.  "Did you . . . did you . . . see anything?"

            Tracing the patterns of veins on leaf with her eyes, Jeri shook her head.  She picked it up, carefully keeping her eyes averted as she followed the same path her eyes had taken with the tip of her finger.  

            "Oh. . . ."  The sigh of relief and disappointment was evident in Kenta's voice as he flipped his _tonfas_ out and began absently swinging them. 

            "Jeri–" Takato began.

            "I didn't!" Jeri said just as quickly.  She paused to take a deep breath and said more slowly, "I didn't see anything, Takato." 

            "Okay," he said quietly, eyes boring into hers.  "I believe you, Jeri."

            She bit her lip, unable to look at him.  She almost wished he'd been more persistent and pressed her to reveal more of what had transpired in that strange place.  She frowned slightly.  Or maybe it really had been a dream?  Yes.  A dream.  It had only been a dream. . . .

            But she couldn't suppress a shiver as something like a cold breeze swept through her body, chilling her from inside out.

            "But I wonder," Kenta continued, "what was that Vibration?  Maybe you were just caught up in the aftereffects of that as well?  I know that the Tuners have that special ability to detect Vibrations and they're very sensitive.  Maybe you're a Tuner?"

            "Regardless of whether she is or is not a Tuner is irrelevant."

            All heads whipped up to the new voice.  

            "Ah!" Jeri gasped.  "You're awake!"

            The Clow woman smiled weakly from her position in the tall, slim man's arms.  Her exotic maroon eyes twinkled hardily, seeming almost fever-bright with the ash-paleness of her skin and her long dark pigtails trailing over the man's arms like streamers of ink.  Dramatic in contrast to the short, fiery auburn locks of her companion's hair.  

            "And I see you are awake as well," she said.  She attempted to wave a hand, but this proved too hard for her and she let it flop limply against the man's chest.  

           Jeri stood up, approaching them with a concerned face.  The woman had been seriously injured and now that she was awake, she actually was looking far worse.  "Are you alright, Miss . . . ?"

            "Meiling.  Li Meiling.  And this idiot, who won't let me go," she punctuated this statement with a light slap in the man's chest, who grunted slightly, in turn, "is Trowa Barton."

            Jeri saw Trowa's arms tighten and he murmured, "I'm not letting you go, Meiling."

            If she wasn't so weak, Jeri was sure the Clow woman would have blushed.  As it was, she settled for an embarrassed cough and closed her eyes.  "Well," she muttered, "we'd better go somewhere, before the sun sets or we may never find our way out of this place."  

            "Can't you just Vibrate?" Kenta inquired.

            The female Echoe opened her maroon eyes to give him a flat look.  "Do you want us collapsing on you as soon as we arrive within the Tunes?  You'll be stuck there until someone else finds you first, because our bodies won't let us stop Vibrating.  That is, _if_ someone finds you before a Mistake does."

            At the mention of those hideous monsters that had attacked them twice in the Tunes, Kenta paled and fingered his _tonfas_ nervously.  Jeri clutched her skirts as a nervous tremor of fear fluttered low in her stomach.  She swallowed thickly and looked back at Takato, wanting to reassure herself that he would still be there and that she would be able to reach quickly if needed.

            But the brunette baker wasn't paying attention.  His wine-red eyes shone with excitement and he trembled with barely contained glee.  He was like a child with a plateful of sweets.  

            Jeri opened her mouth to call his name, but then closed it with an audible click.  She turned away.  She reassured herself that the nameless fear sending her heart racing suddenly was only the memory of the Mistakes.  That the sudden lack of warmth in the air was nothing more than a random night wind.  She reminded herself that the ground beneath her feet was solid and strewn with leaves and brown.  Not white.

A/N:  Whew!  Finally finished it!  I'm about to collapse from exhaustion.  *Thump*  Too late.  Eh.  Oh, wells.  Did I say I'd post this before summer was over?  Err . . . ahahahah . . . eheheh . . . ummm . . . yeah . . .  What I _meant was one month after summer was over.  Err . . . yeah!  That's it!_

There are probably hundreds of mistakes in this chapter.  Sorry, guys, I haven't had time to reread it and I know I've taken long enough to post another chapter.  I'm just really, really, really sorry about the crappiness of it.  


	9. Chapter Eight

I thank the anonymous person for warning me about posting author's notes as a separate chapter. 

I'd posted the timeline and Authors Notes here earlier as a separate chapter, but an anonymous person warned me that fanfiction.net would prefer that authors didn't do that.  I respect that.  So I took it down and incorporated it into this chapter.  Don't worry no one's missing anything.  So thanks, anonymous person, once again.

This story is confusing because there are a lot of things going on at the same time and I've just realized what a hole I've dug for myself.  Ulp!  But I hope the timeline will help in clearing confusions.  Please understand that not everything will be understandable yet because the plot is still unfolding. (I'm one of those sneaky drop-a-plot-hint-here-and-another-there types.)  

I've also realized that I could mitigate the confusion if I simply have a _date _before each scene.  So that's what I'll do.  One of these days, I'll go back and add the dates on the earlier chapters, but for now . . . I'm too lazy.  Haha.  See, your comments really help me improve.  Thanks!

(Oh yes, responses are at the end.)

Story thus far: 

(Notice:  I'll only be commenting on points that are relevant to the main plot.  Therefore things that may seem important but are omitted may simply be points that are important to some subplot I have going on.

Also notice: Except for initial introductions, I will refer to the older counterparts by last names to avoid confusion.)

Prologue:  

The time is at night.  The scene is a small camp in the middle of a forest.   

Takato Matsuki, the mercenary, is introduced.  

He meets Henry Wong and Master Long.

Matsuki learns that Henry has been summoned by the Ohtori Academy to test his possible Vibration skills.

Matsuki learns that Henry is mute.

The night passes.  The scene shifts to a village on the Raleighan border.  It is morning.

Takato Matsuki, the baker's son, is introduced.

Takato experiences a Vibration that displaces him into another Tune for a moment.

Jeri Katou, the innkeeper daughter, is introduced.

Jeri and Takato Vibrate to the other Tune.  

Jeri whispers, "Merciful Shuichon." (Schuichon is Suzy's undubbed name.)

The time is still morning.  The scene is the small camp, but on a different Tune.

Henry is introduced to "Tunes".

Chapter 1:

The time is still morning.  The scene is the master bedroom of Shioda Castle.

Jeri Katou, the Duchess, is introduced. 

Katou wakes up from a dream involving vague figures and whispers.

Katou remembers events that happened weeks ago.  

Ruri is introduced.

Katou is unnerved by Ruri's presence.

The time is still morning of the same day.  The scene is a practice courtyard at the Ohtori Academy.

Rika Nonaka, the Echo, is introduced.

Ryo Akiyama, the Echo, is introduced.

Kenta Kitagawa, the Student, is introduced.

Chapter 2:

The time is _still_ morning of the same day.   The scene is the small camp on a different Tune.

Henry and Matsuki encounter a small Mistake.

Matsuki comments upon being unable to sense Henry's Vibration.

They sense another Mistake.

Henry has a flashback and gives chase to the creature.

Henry and Matsuki encounter two other Echoes, Li Mei Ling and Trowa Barton, who were ordered by Ohtori to retrieve them.

Mei Ling notes upon being unable to sense Henry's Vibration.

They all go in search of the Mistake.

The time is mid-morning of the same day.  The scene is an unidentified room.

Shuichon Wong (I know it's really Li Shuichon.) is introduced.

Shuichon has a flashback.

We learn of the first Resonators.

We learn of a potential threat that has tried to and is trying to invade the Kami-Tune.

The time is mid-morning of the same day.  The scene is the small village on the Raleighan border on a different Tune.

Rika, Ryo, and Kenta are trying to find Takato and Jeri.

They all find each other and defeat a Mistake.

They all leave the scene and find themselves in Veda Forest of that Tune.

They are attacked by a Mistake.

They meet Henry and co.

Rika learns Henry is mute but can communicate with her through telepathy.

Chapter 3:

The time is mid-morning of the same day.  The scene is a clearing in Veda Forest on a different Tune.

Rika and Henry leave the scene of battle.

Kenta, Takato, and Jeri leave with Trowa and Mei Ling.

Ryo and Matsuki defeat the Mistake.

They discover a strange red substance, which killed the Mistake.

The time is just before Ryo and Matsuki's battle ended.  The scene is an unidentified enclosure.

Two mysterious figures appear.

Their "conversation" echoes Katou's nightmares.

The time is just after Ryo and Matsuki's battle.  The scene is off the Taikoubou River on a different Tune.

Rika and Henry learn more about each other.

Rika Vibrates and they both return to the Kami-Tune.

Chapter 4:

The time is mid-afternoon of that day.  The scene is a council room

Hirokazu Shioda, the Duke is introduced.

Plans for a war on Cephiro are made.

A councilman is violently disposed by a strange creature that may or may not be a Mistake, but is definitely connected to Ruri.

The time is afternoon of that day.  The scene is off the Taikoubou River on the Kami-Tune.

Rika dreams.

Henry journeys overland with an unconscious Rika.

Henry encounters bandits.

Henry fights bandits.

Henry has a flashback.

Henry "snaps".

Chapter 5:

The time is late afternoon of that day.  The scene is the back of a covered cart.

Henry dreams.

We get hints of how he defeated the bandits.

Kazu Shioda, the blacksmith's apprentice, is introduced.

We learn that Kazu can also only hear Henry.

The time is sunset of that day.  The scene is still in the covered cart.

Kazu and Henry talk.

We learn that there are seven Resonators and not six as is normally believed.  Shuichon may have been the seventh Resonator.

They appeared on the s'Ffalen Strait.

Chapter 6:

The time is mid-morning of the second day.  The scene is a tropical jungle.

Jeri, Takato, and Kenta make their way through the jungle.  They are dragging Mei Ling and Trowa in constructed stretchers.

The time is mid-morning of the second day.  The scene is an empty throne room.

Outside the throne room, thousands of soldiers cheer on Duke Shioda as he begins his campaign.

The time is several hours after the scene above (About evening of the second day).  The scene is a computer room.

Shuichon discovers thousands of Vibrations.

We learn that only 1,000 Echoes are activated at any one time, therefore the above statement should be impossible.

Shuichon discovers there is only one frequency: Jeri Katou's.

The time occurs just as Shuichon discovers the Vibrations.  The scene is the tropical jungle.

Some invisible force impacts Takato, Kenta, Trowa, and Mei Ling.

Jeri falls into a stupor.  The words she mumbled echoed the mysterious figures' conversation in Chapter 3.

The time occurs just as Shuichon discovers the Vibrations.  The scene is Kazu's bedroom.

Rika and Henry talk.

Rika gets a premonition.

Chapter 7:

The time is morning of the third day.  The scene is a marching army.

Ruri and Shioda discuss the battle for Cephiro.

Ryo Akiyama, the Baron, is introduced.

We learn that Katou is also in a catatonic state and her mutterings echoes Jeri's words from Chapter 6.

The time is morning of the third day.  The scene is a plain landscape then the tropical jungle.

Jeri meets a mysterious figure in a large, opaque bubble.  The "conversation" she has with the figure echoes Katou's mutterings from the scene above.

Jeri wakes up.

Mei Ling and Trowa have awoken.

            ---------------------------------------------------------------

Resonators

            By squishybookworm

Chapter Eight

_4th day of March, 933 Resonance Era, 5:35 AM, Ohtori Academy_

It was a bird that greeted their presence.

            They swept through the open-air hallway towards the assembly room, where the dull roar of hundreds of students and teachers were gathered.  Past the pale blue stone colonnades, a bird twittered from its position atop a barely budding pear tree.  It canted its head quickly from side to side, catching sight of a group of men and women as they disappeared and reappeared from behind the high columns.  Their forms were rendered into mere shadows, only the brightest scarlet robe, or a twinkle of gold thread flickering from their shadows.

The bird chirped once then fluttered to another swaying branch.  Grey light filtered across the sky, but the sweeping architect of the surrounding buildings prevented any light from peeking into this moderate garden.  Not until midmorning at least.  It chirped again and hopped up to a higher branch.  There it found the assembly of people turn a corner and continue down that hallway.  Again they appeared and disappeared behind tall, smooth columns.  Feet encased in richly brocaded slippers carrying them quickly to their destination.  If their quick, short breaths and wet brows were any indication, those feet may have known nothing but the softest silks and fur.  

But this did not interest the bird as it swooped down to a tall bubbler just beyond the shadow of the pear tree and began sipping.

"Councilmen," one of the shadowed people huffed, "is this really necessary?"

"Nonsense, Peremides."  This voice was also winded, but perhaps more so than the first had been.  "Do you not remember the intensity of that . . . that Vibration?"

Another, a feminine, voice interjected, "We are not certain if it is a Vibration.  Don't jump to conclusions and frighten the students, Ekurya."

"Caelia," Ekurya grunted, "I don't think I _will_ be able to frighten that bunch of rotten, little-"

"Guard your tongue, dear," another sly and catty voice spoke up from the back, "some of those students _are_ nobles.  If you are referring to the . . . commoners, well, that's another issue entirely."

Ekurya grunted again and carefully mopped away a sheen of sweat from his thickly furrowed brow.  His fingers clutched the small square of snowy linen looking like protrusions of sausages spewing forth from a mushy apple.  His droopy cheeks bubbled out once, twice as a fish surely gaped once it had been pulled from the water and he finally clamped his thick lips together tightly.

"Now we are almost to the Assembly room.  I trust everyone here knows their lines?"  The same sly voice almost purred from the small, slim woman.  She carefully tucked back a stray curl of wheat-gold hair and patted her immaculate hairdo.  Of all of them, she had somehow managed to look cool and fresh as if she had not just been involved in a near run from one side of the Academy to the other.  Straightening out imagined wrinkles in her flowing rose-pink robe, she boldly met the eye of another tall and imposing council member.  "Shall we enter, High Consulate Ikari?

Pushing up small spectacles on his bony nose, Ikari sneered.  "Yes, shall we, council members?"

He stood silently before the large, gold-ornamented doors of the Assembly as the others arraigned themselves behind him.  Sharp brown and tiny irises stared steadily at the decorated whorls of scenes depicting the first heroic Resonators and the final defeat of I-Ru.  But whether from years or wearing glasses or whether he'd been born that way, the whites of his eyes overpowered the irises giving him the look of one whose eyes were perpetually bulging.  Added with a largely skeletal face where the skin seemed to have been stretched over bare bone, he would have seemed like a grinning skeleton.  Always smiling at some devious plot of which only he was aware.  Only the short and neatly trimmed beard running along his jaw line was his saving grace. 

But the tiny smirk that always accompanied his words did nothing to absolve his visage.  "I trust everyone is here?" he asked of the guards and the herald.

Both nodded perfunctorily, unwilling to meet his eyes.

"Good.  Open the door."

With an ominous creak and a low groan, the guards pushed back the heavy doors.  Immediately the muffled roar coalesced into a chaotic buzz of hundreds of students and teachers.  Some sat sedately, calmly awaiting the words of the council members.  But most were talking loudly, trying to be heard above the din, only to be overpowered by others who were striving for the same goal.  

Yet one emotion filtered through the morass of shouting people: fear.  

The sharp blare of trumpets sliced through the babble like a blunt axe cutting through silk.  Everyone quieted and turned to the grand doors where the herald stood like a faded peacock in his pastel blue and green-checkered waistcoat and breeches.  

"My Lords and Ladies, Echoes and Students, I present to you: Consort of Yui, Lady of Eva, Koshu Province of Nonaka domain of the Honored Aav Motherland, High Consulate, the Resonator Ikari Gendo."

The shuffle of hundreds of students and teachers reverberated throughout the auditorium as all stood up to welcome the highest-ranking member of the Council of Ohtori.  He swept through the grand doors into a room of light.  

A single aisle cut a wide swath down the middle of the room to flow up three steps onto a dais.  From the door to the dais, students in an array of clothing – from nightshirts to fencing wear – sat on rows of cherry-wood benches on either side of the aisle.  The benches were set on a levels that climbed steadily up the walls like a giant's staircase.  The high domed ceiling above was comprised of a special working of clear crystal that reflected down even the slightest ray of light, so that even this early in the morning, the room was illuminated as if they sat within a meadow at noon on a cloudless day.

Ikari strode down the empty path as the herald announced the other council members.  There was Peremides Sohalin, a Raleighan commoner and highly ambitious man.  His slight frame and overly large eyes often fooled many into believing he was a harmless old man.

Then Meiden Aston, a large Raleighan noble.  Wente Josiah Xtopher tel Ekurya, a Southern pirate or gentleman (depending on who was talking), whose bulk was exceeded only by his scorn for anyone and everything.  Shioda Caelia, cousin of the Duke of Raleigh and shared many of his traits.  Mainly that of long, lanky arms and legs, an extremely skinny body, and fox-like features.  Finally, Sabine de Kercoz of Inepril, whose wheat-gold hair, flashing green eyes, and crimson red lips had every young man in the city falling at every turn to do her bidding.

Once they'd all arrayed themselves upon the stage, students and teachers alike sat down murmuring and hushing each other at the same time.

Ikari stepped forward and everyone immediately hushed to hear what he had to say.

"Echoes and Students." His voice was low and rough, causing even the closest of his audience to lean forward and strain to hear his voice.  "I am sure you are wondering what that disturbance had been."

Another wave of whispered murmurs broke out again.  Ikari waited patiently until the mutters had died down then began again.  "At this time, our Tuners are still investigating, but I assure you that there is cause for alarm.  There have been no reports of strange happenings or Mistake sightings as of yet."

He took a breath and prepared to continue his speech, but a loud voice to the back cut through the abated silence.  "What about the task you'd assigned to Echo Nonaka and Echo Akiyama yesterday?  Wasn't that a Mistake attack?"

The room immediately broke out into loud babble as everyone demanded answers and threw question after questions at the six council members.  Ikari waited patiently, the smirk present upon his face.

Finally, Ekurya boomed, "_SHUT UP, YOU WORTHLESS FOOLS!_  _THE MAN HASN'T FINISHED YET!_"

The room immediately quieted again.  A few moments passed in pregnant silence as the lanky high consulate remained perfectly still.  Then Ikari continued, "The council members and I, sent the Echoes Nonaka and Akiyama to retrieve two potential trainees, who'd managed to activate their di-genes.  We assure you that the disturbance last night had nothing to do with those assignments."

"Then what was it?!"

"We know everyone, whose di-genes have been activated, _sensed _that _disturbance._  But what's going on?!"

"Yeah!"

"What's going on?!"

"Or don't you know!"

"You probably know just as much as we do!"

"Pretentious servants!"

"What did you say?!"

"Clow bastard!"

"Aav tramp!"

"Think yer so classy just 'cause daddy's rich!"

"_QUIET, MORONIC FOOLS!  LET THE MAN TALK OR YOU'LL ALL BE EXPELLED!_"

The room hushed.  Then the babble rose to a low roar that shook the crystal ceiling above.  In the next few hours, the council members feverishly fielded questions to calm the mass of nobles and commoners.  Aav and Raleighans.  Students and Tuners.  But in the end, no answer was ever quite satisfactory and all left the great auditorium into a sunshine so bright, it seemed unreal.  

Behind, in the room, Ikari, Peremides, and Sabine remained until the last councilor had left.

"Bold move, Ikari," Peremides said.  "Sending Echo Nonaka _and _her step-brother.  Don't you think her mother will seek retribution if anything happened to her heirs?"

Barely glancing at the skinny man, Ikari swept to a bench and settled down regally.  Sabine moved to stand behind him, her peach satin and chiffon day gown barely creasing.  She looked like a creamy cloud floating across the floor.

"You know nothing of Aav affairs," the high-consulate finally said.  "Her mother will believe her daughter died a grand and noble death defending this world from the dreaded Mistakes."

"Hmph!"  Peremides laughed, sounding like a dry hack.  "I thought you sent them on a mission to retrieve potential trainees?"

"And naturally they upheld their honor by defending those trainees from a vicious brigand attack."

"And you think she _still _won't be suspicious?  That she won't come for your neck?"

Ikari smirked.

"Of course you wouldn't understand.  You're only a _man_," Peremides said.

Both Ikari and Sabine raised one brow.

"You think the Lady Nonaka won't suspect anything at all?" 

Lazily brushing his fingers across the back of Sabine's hand where it rested on his shoulder, the lanky man sneered.  "And just what should she suspect?"

"She's not an idiot.  She'll recognize the man who tried to court her daughter."

"There were many men who tried to court her daughter."

"But none with your paucity."

Pushing his glasses up, Ikari's sneer widened.  "There's a smudge on your tabard, Sohalin-san.  My, but it looks like a green stain, does it not, my dear?"

Sabine's ruby-red lips curved upwards into a luscious smile.  "Why, yes," she purred, "However did it get there?"

"Perhaps the silverware was too fragile."

"Yes, yes, that must it."  Sabine's green eyes glittered like a pouncing cat.

"Did you only have boiled vegetables for lunch, Peremides?"  Bulging eyes seemed to bulge even farther as he gave a wide smile.  "My cook will be more then happy to serve you."

Only a slight tightening of Peremides' mouth betrayed his irritation.  "I like to keep myself humble.  Remind myself why rich foods can so easily rot one's teeth."

"Nonsense," Ikari smiled, baring two rows of perfect, white teeth.  "That is only a myth perpetuated by the less fortunate so as to console themselves."

"I am sure you will need the consolation, Ikari, when the Lady Nonaka comes for you."  Peremides smiled, showing off his own perfect rows of white teeth.  Then spun and strode towards the great, gilded doors.  As he passed the couple, he gave one last shot, "I don't know much about Aav affairs, but I'm sure Aav women especially do not accept promiscuity kindly."

Ikari smiled contemptuously and tugged Sabine down to devour her plump, red lips.  The sonorous boom of the closing doors echoed throughout the room, but neither broke the kiss to acknowledge it.

--------------------------------------------------

_4th day of March, 933 R.E., 7:02 AM, Cephiro_

It was a damn bird that woke her.

            Rika huffed and pushed the woven blanket back.  She swung her leg over the side of the "bed," which was really a pallet thrown over a protrusion of the white, stone wall.  Touching braided rugs underfoot, and eternally grateful for the protection it yielded from the freezing stone underneath, she reached blindly for the dragon light.  Predawn light filtered through the cracks of the wooden shutters and past the thick woven covering.  But the faint illumination only rendered strange shapes in this strange room.

            Outside, the damn bird twittered again like those inane maids at the Ohtori Academy.  For the life of her, Rika could not comprehend how such vacuous fools could find so much to giggle about.  Every time she rounded a corner of the Academy halls, there they would be, scrubbing the floor or delivering laundry, and there wouldn't be only one.  No.  There had to be a whole pack!  All high-pitched giggles and absurd chatter.  

            As if to flaunt her thoughts, another damn bird answered the first damn bird and they started up a great, merry song of tweets, warbles, and screeches.  Growling lowly, Rika resisted the urge to jump through that window, shutters and all, and hunt down those things to wring their scrawny little necks!    

            Instead, she continued to grope about the small room, neck muscles tightening with each of the damn birds' shrieks.  Her shin slammed into the low table. 

            "OUCH!  Dammit," Rika hissed lowly so as not to wake anyone else up, "Shut up, you stupid birds."

            As if sensing the murderous spirit of the young Echo, the birds fell silent.  Then . . .

            Tweet!  Tweet!  Tweet!  Tweet!  Tweet!

            Growling like a prematurely awakened bear, Rika swiped about the room angrily.  Maybe she'd get lucky and accidentally hit the dragonlight.  Unfortunately this only resulted in a sore knuckle for her as she struck her hand against some object.  With a resounding clang, the metallic something crashed onto the floor and rolled away.

            A string of curses fell off her lips easily as she cradled her injured hand.  Murderous thoughts of roasted songbirds tumbled through her mind's eye deliciously and with grim determination, she approached the shutters.  But before she touched the woven curtain, a low knock sounded at her door.

            [Miss Nonaka?  Are you awake?]

            Rika paused.  It was the . . . sorta mute.  What would he say to her this morning?  Already she regretted admitting to him that she'd had a nightmare.  He hadn't believed her yesterday, yet he hadn't been offended by her half-truth either.  So, what the hell did he want?

            [Miss Nonaka?]

            She straightened.  Well, nobody could say she was a coward and she certainly didn't fear some misty-eyed Clow!  No way.  Not.  At.  All.

            Clearing her throat, Rika replied, "Yes.  I'm awake.  But I can't find a light."

            [Oh.  You should open the shutters.  The dragonlights do not work when daylight is on us.]

            "Yes.  I will do so."  Rika waited, listening for the retreat of his footsteps.  When they did not come, she cleared her throat again.  "Was there anything else?"

            [I . . . No.  Nothing.  Nothing else.  Just . . . Mr. Shioda and I will be downstairs.  If you are hungry, we will have breakfast ready.]

            Rika nodded tersely, although she knew he couldn't see.  The soft thump of his footsteps faded away and she turned back to the only window in the room.  Pushing aside the thick weaving, she pushed open the shutters.  Grey light washed through the room immediately along with the sound of twittering birds.  

            Lowering her face into her hands, Rika groaned.  "Will you two please shut up?"

            But they continued obliviously.  With a sigh, she turned back into the dimness of the room to search for her clothes.

            Dressed in the stiff and now clean uniform of the Ohtori Academy, Rika paused at the landing of the stairs.  The smell of rice porridge and sautéed vegetables floated up, making her stomach rumble and remind her that she'd been unconscious for quite a while.  While Echoes were in that state, they didn't need any sustenance, but would be ravenous when they woke up.  She would have even welcomed roasted fowl this early in the morning.

            Making her way down the stairs, the shadowed gloom of the second level fell away to warm light.  The open stairs went down to a small area.  As with the room she'd stayed in last night, this one was furnished with braided mats underfoot and woven rugs along the wall, to keep the chill of spring nights out.  A low table, polished to a smooth dark sheen, sat in the middle with various cushions around it.  

Two of the cushions were occupied by two young men, who were engrossed in their breakfast.  Another large bowl of steaming rice porridge sat at another corner of the table with a plate of vegetables and a pair of chopsticks.  

Both youths stopped long enough to look up at her and give a greeting before going back to their food.  Ignoring the silence, Rika approached her place and sat down.

"Itadekimasu," she whispered, before picking up her chopstick and eating.  No one seemed to have heard her comment.  If they did, they said nothing.

The occasional chink of chopsticks against bowls or plates dominated the silence for the next few minutes.  From the corner of her eyes, Rika peeked at the other two.  Henry seemed deep in thought, his misty-grey eyes far as he mechanically scooped rice to his mouth and chewed.  His short blue-black hair was extremely mussed up as if he'd repeatedly ran his hand through it and his clothes were different.  He wore only a white, long-sleeved, mandarin collared shirt that was too tight across his chest and too long in the sleeves.  Ill-fitting.  As if they belonged to someone taller and skinnier than he was.

Probably the silent boy that sat across from her.  Even sitting and slouched over as if he had a hangover, the brunette easily topped Henry by about half a head.  She peered at him through her eyelashes, studying the dark smudges under his blood-shot eyes and a gauntness in his cheeks.  He probably _was_ hung-over.

He looked up suddenly and she had to stop from lowering her eyes in startlement.  His crystalline blue eyes would have been light with mischievousness, she believed, if they hadn't been so dull with fatigue.  

"Yo."  He smiled.  But that fell quickly as he tried to suppress a yawn.  "So you're an Echo, yeah?"

Rika shrugged.  "Yeah."

"Yeah . . . I'm Shioda Kazu. . . ."

"Nonaka Rika."

More silence.  Rika couldn't help it.  She didn't want to be rude to her savior, but she just wanted to eat in peace.  The effects of the Vibration had not worn off yet, despite her rise from slumber.  What Henry had said last night was true.  Most Echoes needed at least three days to recover from an extensive Vibration.  

True she was stronger than most and true she was more skilled than most; however, that did not mean she could force herself to wake up from the induced sleep.  In fact, she was sure _she_ hadn't done it herself.  Last night, something had happened.  And it had ripped through her unconscious hard enough to wake her.  What was it?  She did not know and this was an aggravation she could not bear.

She set her bowl down with a decisive clink.  "Thank you.  That was a good meal.  Please excuse me."

Henry stood up quickly.  [Miss Nonaka, where are you going?]

"Out," she replied.

[I do not think you should be going out so soon after your recovery.]

"I need to go," she said, her strides not slowing.  "I need to find a Binary."

"Whoa!  You can hear Blueberry, too?!"

The statement by the bandannaed youth caused both Henry and Rika to pause in surprise and turn to said youth.  His head was cocked slightly.  The fringe of his wide bandanna barely touched his shoulder and Rika was reminded of a floppy-eared puppy gazing up at her quizzically.

Rika spoke carefully.  "And what does that mean exactly?"

[It means that strangely enough, only you and Shioda can hear me if I direct my thoughts to you.]

Giving him a sharp gaze, she tried to gauge the directness of that misty grey stare.  But all she found was a clearness that surprised her for its intensity.  She nodded.  "I see.  Perhaps it is a manifestation of your Vibration."

[Vibration?  I was not aware I _could _Vibrate.]

She frowned.  "Weren't you part of a Binary?  I thought one of your other companions might have been your partne—Wait.  I don't remember sensing your Vibration.  I remember sensing the Vibration of your companions but," she glared at him accusingly, "why did I not sense _yours_?"

Henry blinked.  Then, [Binary?]

"Binary?"  Kazu echoed. 

Impatiently, "Traveling Echoes.  They're pairs.  Ohtori has at least one Binary in every major city on this continent.  But there are more than that running around.  The fact that you're a Tuner may explain your communicative ability, but it does not explain how your Vibration was masked!"  

[Tuner?]

"Tuner?"

Rika scowled darkly.  "Great Mother, do you boys know nothing?!" she snapped.

"Well, I apologize if I ain't a royal prissy tomato lump, your highness."  Chestnut brown eyebrows lowered into a deep frown under Kazu's black bandanna and he stood up with one hand clenched.

Smirking nastily and showing two rows of white teeth, Rika sneered, "More like a drunk monkey's ass."

It was interesting, she noted, how quickly the flush suffused his face.  Although it really, really made him look even more inebriated and she wondered if she should comment on that.  Hell, why not?  "You shouldn't blush, that wasn't a compliment."

[Rika.]

She jerked her gaze to the other boy in startlement.  His misty grey eyes regarded her calmly, without censure, without anger, without emotion.  Yet, somehow, they managed to convey a deep sense of disappointment that almost made her cringe.  She hadn't felt this uncomfortable since she was four years old and had accidentally broken an ancient urn in the Grand Palace, before being presented to the High Mother.  While her mother's glare had not been as subtle, it had been just as effective.

"Puh!"  She spun away before she could catch those misty orbs again.  She didn't mean to be nasty.  She just needed to leave quickly.  Fatigue was pulling at her limbs like chain weights and if she didn't start moving soon, she was sure she would collapse and would never want to get up again.  She didn't have time to be a lexicon for the fools.  

"Man, is she always such a stuck-up bi--"

[Shioda, please.]  

She was sure Henry had glared at the other boy because she could feel it brush along the back of her neck like a chill, ghostly touch.  "Don't worry about it, Henry.  I doubt he will remember this conversation tomorrow."

Henry sighed.  [Please do not say anything else you might regret. He and his master were very kind when most of the others could not be bothered with us.]

"Puh."  But she refrained from saying anything more.

Sighing, Kazu said, "Yeah.  Yeah, you're right, Blueberry.  I ain't gonna say no more, but I ain't gonna be responsible for what happens either, y'hear?  Princess _Tomato_ had better understand that."

Ignoring the barb and turning back with a curious expression, Rika probed each boy with a searching gaze.  "Responsible . . . for what?"

[Rika,] Henry motioned her over to sit at the table, [sit down for a moment.  If you are planning to go out, you will have to be careful and we must discuss this first.]

"Why do I have to be careful?"

"That's what we're discussin', your highness," Kazu said snappishly.  He picked up a chopstick and drummed a steady beat on the polished rim of his rice bowl.  "Look, I ain't in a good mood now, yeah?  Let's just get this over with, yeah?"

Rika growled, "Monke--"

[Rika, please.]

It was his damn grey eyes.  Rika snorted and came back to sit down stiffly.  All the time, Henry kept his misty grey gaze steadily trained on her as if she was a slumbering tiger.  

She crossed her arms to keep from fidgeting as the itching between her shoulder blades and a tingling across her skin persisted.  It felt like someone was Vibrating very far away.  It had remained throughout her restless night from the "nightmare" she'd awoken from.  She needed to find a Tuner.  Fast.

Once everyone had settled down again, Henry turned to the scarlet-haired Echo.  [You are an Aav.]

Rika snorted again, "No, really?  And here I thought I was a Mistake all this time."

"Princess Tomato ain't as smart as she'd like us to think, hah!"  Kazu set his elbow on the table and set his chin in it lazily.  "You're an Aav.  This is Cephiro, a city in the heart of the Clow empire.  You get it now, princess?"

"No," Rika said, "if I remember correctly, Cephiro isn't in the heart of the Clow Empire.  It's actually on the Eastern border of the empire and is separated from Raleigh by the Ryuzaki Mountains.  Because only one road leads to this city, it is actually quite isolated although it is also very famous for the excellent weapons and armors forged in its equally famous smithies.  But all trade of said weapons and armors actually occur in Vione, a smaller city a day's journey to the west where a moderate amount of caravans go through.  You wonder why I tell you this, yes?"

Kazu began to nod his head, but Henry said, [Rika, the people here may not be . . . as zealous as those near the Clow and Aav border, but they will still recognize what you are.  Your features are very classic of an Aav woman.  No one will be able to mistake you for anything else.  You are too noticeable.]

"Yeah," Kazu drawled, "even your mighty Echo clothes ain't gonna help you much if they don't know what they represent.  You wait here till it gets dark first."

[I am sure the Binary will not leave this city before nightfall.]

Frowning, Rika absently rubbed her tense neck muscles.  "People would be less likely to attack me in the middle of the day with the sun high overhead.  In the dark they could still recognize me and would feel less restraint in assaulting me."  She resisted the urge to start rubbing her arms where goose bumps had started to rise.  Had it been this chilly earlier?

            "She's gotta point there, Blueberry."

            A slight vertical line appeared between Henry's brow as he ran his hand through his hair.  Several new strands popped up after the passage.

            [Do you know where they are?]

            "Who?"

            [The Binary.]

            She paused.  "Binaries are a different division of Echoes.  They live outside the Academy and follow orders as are given, but otherwise they are not subjected to being formally recognized as such."

            Nodding, Henry rested his elbow in one hand and brought the other up to tap his mouth contemplatively.  [I see.  So those others were . . .]

            Rika affirmed his statement with a nod.  "Yes.  That is why I assume you are an Echo."  She raised one eyebrow.  "_Are_ you and Echo?"

            He hesitated then shook his head.  [No.  No, I do not think so.]  

Kazu stopped in his rapid tapping, then continued when Henry would say no more.

Carefully hiding the rise of her other brow, Rika silently ferreted away that little tidbit.  She would have to corner Kazu later, away from the misty-eyed Clow.

[So, Miss Nonaka, you do not know where the Binary lives.]

It was not a question and it only added to the steadily rising prickling of the fine hairs along the back of her neck.  She would have growled if she didn't think it was so undignified.

"So, what do _you_ suggest, then?"

Kazu and Henry glanced at each other then back to her.  Her hackles rose.  "Puh!  Typical males!  Typical _Clow _males!  Believing the assertions of females are nothing more than hysterical paranoia in a discussion of possible danger.  So they must protect the fainting woman and speak only when she is not in the room!  Well, I won't have it!  You think to stop me?"  She stood up, amethyst eyes narrowed, and brushed her sword's hilt.  "Well, try it."

She spun, intent on sweeping out of there with outraged dignity wrapped around her like a royal cloak.

"I told ya so.  She ain't a Clow woman.  In fact I ain't sure she _is _a woman." 

[We are not trying to stop you, Rika.]

She faltered at the door.  It was more the use of her name than anything else that had stopped her.  Not that that was important or anything.  

She turned back, scowling slightly.  "You're not?"  Sarcasm dripped from her tone like slightly congealed lard.

Henry shook his head.  [Please hear us out.]

She did not move, but she did listen.  And when they were finished, she had to grudgingly admit that they had come up with a decent plan.  It was so simple she'd have smacked herself if the other two hadn't been present.  But that didn't stop her from hurling a cushion at Kazu's face when he commented smugly on the irrational, overreaction of tomato-lumped Aav females. 

----------------------------------------------------

_4th day of March, 933 R.E., 11:27 AM, The Rainbow Tune _

It was a trill, much like a bird's that caught his attention.

Duke Shioda craned his neck to peer past the line of his cavalry.  But the expressions of his men were grim and focused and they seemed unaware of the sound.  He sat back and stared at the horizon of the verdantly green plain.

Fortunately the grey plain had gradually gained in color and his men were considerably cheered.  He wanted them motivated, not depressed to the point of considering suicide.

Unfortunately, the colors did not stop at "normal".  The scarce vegetation and the sky above; hell, even the damn dirt possessed an intensity so bright he would have thought he was hallucinating.  If his men didn't want to kill themselves now, they'd at least wanted to put their eyes out.

Hirokazu rubbed his temples.  The bright green was unlike anything he'd ever seen.  He was getting a damn headache.

"My lord."

He turned to glare at the cause of all this.  ""Tis better that you have good news, Ruri, or Vibration or not, I'll wrangle your blighted neck."

Unfazed, she moved her horse closer to his.  "The Mistakes will be here soon."

"Hmph!  'Tis damn time!  Egidius!"

            A smaller horse nudged its way forward, bearing a young courier.  "Yes, my lord?"

            "Inform the knights to prepare their troops.  The Mistakes will arrive shortly."

            The youth licked his lips nervously.  "Yes, my lord."

            Hirokazu considered venting his irritation on the youth, partially to calm his nerves and partially to motivate the damn boy again.  But the boy had already disappeared.  Hmph.  Well, there would be motivation enough once the Mistakes arrived.

            "Ruri," he barked.

            "Yes, my lord?"

            "This cursed plain is sorely testing my patience."

            "We shall arrive shortly, my lord.  The Mistakes will meet us at the point of departure."

            Hirokazu grunted.  Ruri had explained to him the danger of arriving directly within the walls of Cephiro.  For one, the Vibration could cause indiscriminate destruction to the surrounding buildings and he wanted a fairly intact city, not a wasteland.  Another consequence of Vibrating too close to the city would be enough to alert any with activated di-genes before they'd actually fully materialized within the Kami-Tune.  He knew Ohtori Academy would have at least one Binary within such a prosperous city.  Several kilometers from the first wall would be far enough to allow time for his army to materialize before the Echoes could warn about their presence and close enough for him to launch his strike before they could muster a defense.

Ruri arched one fine brow, "You have no compunctions of the . . . request the Mistakes have made in exchange for their support?"

Smile pulled back like a fox's smile, Hirokazu jerked his reins and his stallion tossed its head angrily.  "Why not?  It will be great sport to see how the prisoners fare against such creatures."

The golden-eyed girl smiled, but the small curve of her mouth did not quite reach her eyes.  "Will my lord have so much amusement that he will forget to send the 2nd and 3rd cavalry along with the 4th, 6th, and 7th division with this unworthy self?"

They'd planned a simultaneous attack.  One would be on the city of Cephiro to obtain the crucial ores, the numerous smithies, and the talented blacksmiths that resided there.  The other would be along the Clow/Aav border.  It would be a simple raid on several of the smaller villages of either country.  In doing so, their presence at Cephiro would not be immediately noted if the Clow emperor was too busy dealing with an outraged Aav matriarch.  

Lips compressed in a savage smile, Hirokazu's ice-blue eyes glittered with unholy glee.  "Of course not, my dear.  After all, the more the merrier."

_---------------------------------------------------------------------_

_4th day of March, 933 R.E., 1:56 PM, Veda Forest_

It was a bird that alerted him.

It went silent suddenly.  Then took off from its perch in a flurry of wings and scattered dewdrops.

"Mr. Matsuki, please tell me that's you.  My head hurts too much to deal with thieves right now."

"It's me."

From the shadowed foliage, Takato's tall form emerged like a lumbering bear.  He tossed a wrapped package at the youth, who sat at the foot of the tallest tree in the vicinity, and stepped aside to allow another figure through.  He was old, although a spry bounce in his step disproved any notion of weakness.

Ryo slowly let go of the breath he'd been holding.  His Vibration-induced slumber had been violently interrupted last night.  He'd been unable to go back to sleep since, waking up in starts and jerking at the slightest sound in the dense shrubs.  The wind through the dry branches did nothing but amplify the tingling sensation across his skin, as if a thousand ants were crawling over him.  His tense muscles quivered at the point of exhaustion.

But Takato had insisted that they rest before returning to Inepril.  Then he'd disappeared for the morning, leaving Ryo to sit at the base of the tree in a sleep-deprived stupor. 

"Who's this?" Ryo asked as he unwrapped the package with unsteady fingers.  Inside, he found a dry, hard loaf.  Finally realizing how hungry he was, he fought to keep back a drool.  Breaking off a corner, he offered it to the mercenary, who accepted it and sat down on a log.  Takato motioned to the old man to take a piece and sit down.

Chewing the bland traveling bread thoroughly, Takato took a swig of water and passed the water pouch to the young Echo before answering.  "This is Master Long.  Remember what I was telling you last night about that young man I was with?"

"The one who left with Rika?  Henry, right?"

"Yeah."

Ryo turned to the old man.  "So you're Master Long?  I'm Ryo Akiyama."

Master Long nodded, the bread ignored in his hands.  "It is a pleasure to meet you."  He paused.  "I do not wish to be rude, but . . ."  He fiddled with the bread, causing large crumbs to tumble to the loamy ground.  ". . . what has happened to Henry?"

Ryo stopped chewing for a moment and dropped his gaze.  Then resumed chewing.  He wasn't sure what to say.  From what Takato had told him, the Mistake had pulled those two to the other Tune and left Master Long.  Takato had also said Master Long and Henry seemed to have a fairly close relationship and the young man would surely go looking for his master as soon as he returned.  

So, it was troubling that even at high noon of the day after, Henry had not shown up yet.  If he wasn't here then that meant Rika wasn't here either.  She could have returned Inepril.  In fact, she would have insisted, but Takato had been sure that Henry would not leave his master.  Were they still in the Tune?  Did they escape?  Surely another Mistake did not show up.  Surely not.  Three in one day was just too much.  Especially after ten years and no report whatsoever of a Mistake.  But what about that disturbance last night?  Was that somehow connected to Rika and Henry?  And what about Kenta?  Did he and the others escape?

Rubbing his temples, Ryo bit off another morsel to prolong his answer.  What the hell happened?!  They were only to retrieve two potential trainees!  What the hell happened?  

He couldn't think.  The itching that was not quite an itching was driving him crazy.  Was it a Vibration?  It sure as hell felt like it?  But if it was, why did Takato look so unbothered?  And that Mistake.  Was it _natural _for a Mistake to die like that?

Dammit, but he just couldn't think right now.  His head was buzzing as if he'd been up late drinking sake with his buddies.  Hell, he wouldn't be surprised to learn this was all a hallucination and he was really in bed puking his guts up right now.

But Master Long patient brown eyes regarded him steadily.  He found he could not stall any longer.

Ryo swallowed and cleared his throat.  "You're not being rude, Master Long.  Were I in your place, I imagine I would also be worried. . . ." 

Tilting his head towards the young Echo, Master Long said, "But . . ."

"But I'm sorry," he said on a sigh, "If Rika has not taken him to Inepril then I don't know what has happened to Henry.  I'm truly sorry."

Master Long sighed.  He seemed to deflate like a shriveled apple.  The bright sun overhead filtered into the deep crevasses and wrinkles of his face, making the shadows deeper.  The folds of his loose robes suddenly seemed to swamp his short frame.  The skin of his hands as they curled limply around the dry bread, seemed paper thin with delicate spider webs of veins etched out in sharp relief.  

"That boy," he chuckled sadly, "that boy was always such a serious little thing."  He clenched his fist and swung his hand out in a wide arc.  Blonde crumbs flew out into the greenery, soon to disappear when the various forest animals set upon them.  "But it seems fate deems that his life shall not pass in peace."

They all sat in silence.  An impending portent carried along with the words and hung there amongst the trees.  No one contested the claim.  And strangely, no one wanted to do so.  

-----------------------------------------------

Responses:

Henrika: Thanks for the compliment and I hope the timeline below abates any further confusion.

littleweirdwriter: Lord of the Rings-type fic?  Wow, that's the best compliment I've ever had!  Thanks a lot!  Is Jeri like the Rose Bride?  Hm.  Now that I think about it, she may play a similar role, although I'm not completely sure, because I haven't had time to finish that series yet.  (Shocking, I know.  Smiles.)  I've noticed you also posted some more Henrika fics.  Yay!  I want to check them out soon.

Shadow of Light4: No, you're not stupid.  Don't ever think you're stupid or I'll whack you with my, um, English papers!  Yeah!  I think you're the only one who has caught on to the fact that Henry is without a doppelganger.  I can tell you this now that the older versions of the characters _are not_ a previous generation.  Maybe the timeline below will clear things up some more.

NekoNoko: Thanks!

RSMB: Thanks, too!

Additional A/N:  Don't I ever shut up?  Eh.  Oh wells.  Just wanted to know, how do people feel about a glossary?  With all the terms I'm throwing out, I don't know if I'm explaining them well enough for you guys.  Let me know, okay?  Thanks.  


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